


Empty Corridors

by Emospritelet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Sex, Angst, Cane Porn, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gold and Lacey Being Closed Off, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lacey's Dad is a Useless Shit, Makeup Sex, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Plus Now With Actual Porn, UST, and food porn, but also kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 144,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: Lacey has always been one of Mr Gold's more reliable tenants.  Recent hardship has left her unable to make her rent payment, and she must try to make a deal with him to avoid eviction.  The result is not one she expected.  Winner of Best Golden Lace Fic in The Espenson Awards 2018





	1. The Long Way Around

Lacey French bent a little lower over the pool table, huffing a strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes as she lined up her shot, one final red ball remaining on the table against her opponent’s three.  She had missed the last shot, and she was blaming hunger for her lack of focus.  It was way past lunchtime, and she hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast either, unless coffee and Oreos counted.  Drinking shots and playing pool probably wasn’t the best use of her afternoon, but then time had no meaning in _The Rabbit Hole_ , so she figured she may as well try to lift the boredom of living in Storybrooke in one of the few ways she knew.  The bar itself was windowless and dimly-lit, an underground pit reeking of stale beer, cheap body spray and desperation.  Her shoes were sticking to the floor as she moved, and she wrinkled her nose, looking along the shining length of the cue.

“A little lower, sweet cheeks!”

Lacey looked over her shoulder, scowling, and a dark-haired man raised his beer glass, winking at her.  Keith Nott was a lech, if a good-looking one.  She had kissed him once, but he was too creepy for her to want to take it beyond that.  Besides, he was the type to tell the entire bar exactly how far he got with a woman, and she had no desire to have her skills discussed by his drunken friends.  Keith put his head to the side, miming lifting a skirt, and she curled her lip.

“In your dreams!” she said witheringly, and he scowled.

“Don’t be such an uptight bitch, I’m only playing around.”

“Yeah, well I’m not.”

She turned back to her shot, eyeing Tom Clark and hoping he wouldn’t sneeze at a critical moment.  He was watching her nervously, twisting his own pool cue in his hands.  A pile of dollar bills sat on the edge of the table, weighted down with the chalk.  Twenty bucks to the winner.  She needed to take this game if she was to stand any chance of making rent.  Okay, she needed to win about a dozen more similar games, but at least this would be a start.  A pity the bar was almost empty; she had no one lined up after Tom, and Keith had refused to play against her after she beat him three times in a row.

She let the cue slide over her fingers as she lined up the shot.  A sharp strike, and her ball rattled the edges of the top right hand pocket before dropping in.  Lacey let out a breath, straightening up, and Tom groaned, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“Sorry, buddy,” she said, grinning, and he sighed.

“You’re a damn hustler,” he grumbled, but winked at her, and she smirked and picked up the money.

“Another game?” she asked.  “Go on, winner takes all!”

“Do i look like I have money to burn?” he asked.  “Maybe next time, Lacey.”

He put his cue on the table and wandered off again, and she sighed, pocketing the money.   _Twenty bucks to add to what I have at home.  Only another two hundred and ten to go!_

She tried not to panic at the thought of how much money she had still to find, and how little time she had to find it.  Work had been thin on the ground these past few weeks, and the cash she usually put aside to make her rent for the next month just hadn’t been there.  She had her reasons for not having the cash, which she thought were good reasons, but Mr Gold wasn’t known for his generosity in granting extensions, and she was getting desperate.

A shadow moved out from behind one of the pillars, the light shining along the dark length of a cane before picking out the shape of a man.  A short, thin man in a dark suit, which she suspected had cost more than he charged her for three months’ rent combined.  His hair hung around his face, shining silver at his temples, and she licked her lips, suddenly wary.   _Speak of the devil…_

Mr Gold glanced at her, his face impassive, a glint of something unfamiliar in his dark eyes.  On any other man she would have thought it was hunger, desire, but Gold wasn’t like that.  At least not as far as she knew.  Say what you wanted about him (and people did), he wasn’t a creep.  Not in that way.  She suspected he could smell fear on people though, and could taste lies in the air.  Money was all he seemed to care about, and being Storybrooke’s only landlord gave him power over pretty much everyone in town.

She imagined he enjoyed his status, but there was a tiny part of her that suspected that he had once been as poor and powerless as she.  There was an air of darkness about him, of ancient pain and loss and violence, a wall of shadows that no one could get through.  Perhaps that was why he had closed himself off from everyone in town, wrapped in his silk shirts and fine suits and hoarding the beautiful things in his shop like some sort of ageless dragon that was too weary to roar and burn its way across the town it had once terrorised.  She wondered if there had ever been anyone in his life that he loved, but she dismissed the thought almost at once.  He was always alone, and it seemed that he preferred it that way.   _Probably into some weird, kinky shit anyway_ , she thought, and snickered.  He raised an eyebrow.

“Something amusing you, Miss French?”

He always talked that way.  Calm, polite, and at the same time sounding as though he could kill you with a teaspoon if he had to.  It was kind of sexy if she thought about it for too long.

“Only my own weird thoughts, Mr Gold,” she said carelessly, and stood with a hip cocked to the side, leaning on the pool table.  “I was wondering whether you play pool.  Twenty bucks says I can beat you.”

“I believe today is the day you give _me_ money,” he said dryly.  “I have no interest in reversing our roles.”

She chewed her lip.   _Dammit!_

“Sure, no worries,” she said, shrugging.  “I have a few hours left, right?”

“You have until the shop closes at six,” he said.  “You’re well aware of my charges for late payments, I’m sure.”

“Is there anyone in this town who isn’t?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Six o’clock, Miss French.”

“Okay, okay, I heard you the first time!”  She rolled her eyes.  “Let a girl finish her drink, at least.”

“Oh, by all means,” he said sardonically.  “Don’t let me stand in the way of your developing alcoholism.”

He stepped past her, heading for the bar, and Lacey glared at his back.

“Asshole!” she muttered, as she turned back to the pool table.  The whisper of what felt like wind at her back made her shiver, and all of a sudden the air was too thick to breathe, catching in her throat as the spicy scent of cologne drifted into her nose.

“What was that, Miss French?”

Lacey yelped at the sound of his voice in her ear, at the feel of his breath on her skin, and she staggered, one arm flying out to the side to steady herself.  A soft chuckle made her blood boil, and she spun on the balls of her feet to face him.  Gold was very, very close, his eyes glinting wickedly, and she squared her jaw.

“You almost made me jump out of my skin!” she snapped, and he raised an eyebrow, gold tooth glinting in the light.

“Humble apologies,” he said softly.  “I could have sworn you said something to me, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

She glared at him, and his grin widened a little as he looked her up and down, the gold tooth on his lower jaw flashing in the light.

“I can always take that rent payment now,” he said lazily, and she sniffed, trying to look down her nose at him.

“You’ll get it when I bring it over.”

“Six o’clock,” he said, his voice soft.  “Don’t make me come looking for you, Miss French.”

There was a warning in his voice, darkness swathed in a soft accent and low tones, and she shivered.   _Great, now he has me marked!  Why the hell couldn’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?_

“I won’t,” she said, wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this.  “I’ll be there before you close up.”

“The anticipation is almost too much to bear.”

He gave her a small bow, still grinning, and swaggered off, his cane tapping on the floor.  Strange that he could be silent as death when he wanted to be.  She watched him warily as he approached the nervous-looking bartender, and glanced around.  The few patrons that had been there before Gold’s arrival had mysteriously disappeared, and she hissed in frustration.

_Two hundred and ten dollars.  How the hell am I gonna come up with that in two hours?_

* * *

“You _have_ to be kidding me,” said Ruby flatly, stacking glasses on a tray.  “Where do you think I’m hiding that kind of cash?  Down my bra?”

“Rubes, I’m desperate!” Lacey pleaded, leaning on one of the diner tables.

“I get that, honey, but I can’t help you.”  Ruby slammed the glasses down with a little more force than was necessary.  “Tips have been crappy the past few weeks, and I had to get the car serviced.  There’s only so much work Billy can do for free before his boss gets suspicious.”

“Dammit!”  Lacey pushed herself upright again, chewing her lip, and Ruby put her head to the side.

“What do you need it for, anyway?” she asked curiously, and Lacey grimaced.

“Rent,” she admitted, and Ruby’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have the _rent_?”

“I know, I know!”  Lacey began to pace, high heels clicking.  “I thought I could make more cash playing pool, but the guys haven’t really been around.”

Ruby shot her a knowing look.

“You mean they’ve all realised you’re a much better player than they thought?” she said dryly.  “Might want to switch to poker or something.”

“I can worry about that tomorrow,” said Lacey, still pacing.  “Right now I need to find two hundred and ten bucks or Gold’s gonna flip his shit.  Any thoughts?”

Ruby shrugged, lifting the tray of glasses.

“Beyond offering to blow him?  Sorry.”

“Ruby!”

“You asked.”

Ruby sauntered off to the kitchen with the tray, and Lacey sighed.  A quick glance at the clock showed the seconds ticking by.  Less than an hour now.  There was no one else she could ask.  No one who’d be willing to help, anyway.  She hadn’t spoken to her father in months, and if she turned up asking for money it would only make things worse between them.  Not that he ever had any; she was pretty sure he would be hiding from Gold himself that evening.  Ruby had been her last, forlorn hope.

Huffing in frustration, she stomped out of the diner, shoving her hands into the pockets of the little jacket she wore.  She shivered; it was almost October, and she supposed it was time to wear something that covered her a bit more.  Her tiny dress left little to the imagination.  She hurried along the street, scowling up at the clock tower, which was permanently stuck at eight-fifteen.  What a pity she herself couldn’t freeze time.  She reached her tiny apartment, trotting up the stairs and ducking inside to find her stash of money, wedged between the pages of a hardback edition of _Persuasion_.  Counting it again made no difference to the amount she had.  Still two hundred and ten short.  Sighing to herself, she stuffed the wad of cash into the inside pocket of the jacket.  There was nothing for it.  She was going to have to ask Gold for an extension.

She hurried along the street, head down, nodding impatiently to anyone that spoke to her.  The shop sign was lit, and she heaved a breath as she pushed open the door, the bell jingling cheerfully.  Gold’s shop was silent, and seemingly empty, and she looked around for a moment, her eyes running over the myriad objects set on shelves.  Entering his shop had always felt like stepping back in time, and not just because it was filled with antiques.  It was something about the air in the place, the scent of beeswax and old paper and the dust of ages past, the polished floor of dark wood and the old glass counters.  Even the lamps seemed dimmer than they ought to be, beautiful shades in hand-painted silk and jewel-coloured frosted glass, spilling light the colour of old gold across the polished surfaces of dressers and shelves.  Clocks ticked on the walls, their tone low and calm, and she took a step further inside, peering at a shelf of old books with cloth-bound covers.

“Miss French.”

His voice made her jump again, and she turned to the back of the shop.  Gold had slipped silently into the room, and was standing behind the counter with his hands braced on the tips of splayed fingers, watching her.  He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and gold sleeve garters encircled his arms just below the elbows, pushing the black silk shirt up a little.  She swallowed hard, and raised her chin.

“Hey,” she said, walking to the counter and digging in her pocket.

She slapped the roll of money down in front of him, and he eyed her as he reached out, long fingers folding around it with a muted crackle of paper and pulling it towards him.  For a moment she thought about just leaving, but he had spoken the truth earlier.  He would come looking for her.  The thought made her shiver, and she was surprised to find that the feeling wasn’t completely unpleasant.  Gold licked his thumb, flicking through the bills.  He looked up at the end, dark eyes fixed on hers, and she held her breath.

“It’s short,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she said.  “I know it is, I - I don’t have the rest.”

“Why ever not?”

“Work was kind of patchy this month,” she admitted.  “And - and I had some expenses.  I just couldn’t get it all together, I’m sorry.”

Gold braced his hands on the counter again, shoulders hunching a little, watching her steadily.

“And yet when I saw you earlier this evening, you seemed to be drinking whisky and playing pool,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“I was trying to make money!” she said.  “I can usually win twenty bucks a game, but hardly anyone wants to play me anymore.  It’s not like I haven’t _tried_ to find the rent, it’s just - well, I’m not a magician.”

Gold drummed the fingers of one hand on the counter, a slow, rhythmic, somehow ominous sound.  She licked her lips nervously, and he sucked in a breath, his dark eyes fixed on hers.  He didn’t seem to blink as often as normal people.

“You’ve always been one of my more reliable tenants, Miss French,” he said at last.  “Unlike your father.  I have no doubt I’ll hear the same pathetic excuses when I visit him to collect later this evening.”

Lacey folded her arms.  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know,” she grumbled.  “We don’t exactly talk much.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

He sounded amused, as though he knew something he shouldn’t, and it was grating on her, but the mention of her father had triggered a memory.  A memory of when she had once thought Gold might not be the bastard everyone made him out to be.

“Dad still hasn’t forgiven you for evicting him that time,” she added.  “That was when I moved out.  You let me rent my apartment, remember?”

“I did.”

She hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to pretend that he hadn’t offered that to her for less than it was worth.  He’d said it was because it was damp, but she had never found any damp in there.  Or seen any sign of the ghost that was supposed to haunt the place.

“I didn’t have the deposit,” she said.  “And you said I could pay it in instalments.  Thirty extra bucks every week.”

“Your memory is flawless,” he said dryly.  “I trust this doesn’t mean that you plan on taking advantage of my generous nature, Miss French.”

She almost choked at that, her eyes wide.   _Generous?_ His mouth had pulled up at one corner, as though he was amused by making her squirm.  As though he wanted to see her beg.   _Fuck him if he thinks I’ll give him the satisfaction._

“Actually, I was thinking that we have a history,” she said, giving him her best smile.  “A history where I promised to pay you back, and I did.  See how that works?”

Gold raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

“You promised to pay me when you signed the rental agreement,” he said.  “I may have made an exception regarding the deposit due to you being barely more than a child, but that was some years ago.  You are now an adult, with all the responsibilities that entails.  The exception no longer applies.”

“Dammit, Gold!”

Lacey took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check, and his twisted smile grew a little more.

“So you won’t budge even a tiny bit?” she said.  “I can’t make rent, I can’t stay, is that it?”

“Well, you’ll have time to gather your things, of course,” he said easily.  “I need to serve you with notice, after all.  You know the rules, Miss French.”

“I know you’re a fucking bastard!”

“Oh my!”  He chuckled, looking amused.  “I ask for you to adhere to our agreement, which you fail to do, and it’s me that’s unreasonable?”

Lacey leaned on the counter, so close she could smell his cologne again.  She was well aware that the angle gave him an excellent view down the front of her dress.  His eyes flicked over her, so quickly that if she hadn’t been watching for it, she wouldn’t have noticed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she let her voice lower in cadence.  “That was rude, I just - I can’t bear to think about going back to my dad’s place, that’s all.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Gold, his eyes glinting.  “From the look of the place, you’d spend all your time cleaning up after him.  The flower shop is all he cares about.”  He lifted a hand, spreading his fingers.  “Well, that and cheap whisky.”

“At least he’s family,” she said.  “I'm his daughter, his only kid.  That - that has to mean something, right?”

“Apparently not, as far as he’s concerned,” he said, and she felt herself bristle.

“I know he’s not gonna win any prizes for World’s Greatest Father,” she said, “but it’s not like I have anyone else to turn to.”

Gold shrugged.

“Move back home if you want,” he said.  “I highly suspect you’ll be begging me for your old apartment back within two weeks, but perhaps I’m just a pessimist when it comes to Moe French.”

Lacey pushed back from the counter, hands on hips.

“Look, if anyone’s gonna insult that bastard, it’s gonna be me!” she snapped.  “You don’t know anything about him beyond how much he owes you every month!”

Gold smiled, his eyes twinkling with dark amusement, and straightened up, reaching for the handle of his cane to steady himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he said softly.  “I think I know exactly what sort of man he is.”

“I know, a bloody deadbeat who’s always late with payments,” she sighed.  “I’ve heard it all before, believe me.  I’ve been lending him money since I got my first job.  He’s kinda free with his fists when he’s drunk, too, if you want something else to add to the list.”

Gold watched her, hands clasped over the handle of his cane.  He was looking as though he had something to say, but was unsure whether to say it.  It was bloody annoying.

“What?” she said, a little more aggressively than was necessary, and he smiled, shaking his hair back from his face.

“D’you know, when I lent your father the money to buy that delivery van of his, I gave him two potential payment options,” he said.  “The first was for an unsecured loan, the higher interest rate of the two.  The second was for a loan secured on some form of collateral.  Clearly this carried less risk, and would have been the option I would have taken, in his position.  Had he any collateral, of course.”

“Let me guess, he made the wrong choice?”

Gold showed his teeth.  “Well, I suppose that depends on your point of view.  He offered me you.”

It was like a punch to the gut, and for a moment Lacey was breathless.

“I - _what_?”

His smile widened.  “Your virtue, to be precise.  He thought you worth the price of a van, at least.   _That’s_ the sort of man he is, Miss French.”

She shook her head, her heart thumping.

“I don’t believe you,” she said numbly, and Gold shrugged.

“That doesn’t make it any less true, but think whatever makes you feel better.”

The worst part of it was that she _did_ believe him.  She turned away, running her hands over her face before whirling back to face him.

“You said no,” she said, almost accusingly and he blinked.

“Of course I said no,” he said.  “You couldn’t have been any more than sixteen, what do you take me for?”

_Great.  The town monster is a better man than my dad.  Fucking fantastic._

“Excuse me,” she muttered, and pushed away from the counter.

“Your rent, Miss French,” he called after her, and she waved a hand, unseeing.

“I’ll be back, I just have to - have to…”

She cut off, wrenching open the shop door and making the bell jingle merrily again as she stomped out into the evening air.  She had a visit to make.


	2. Hold Your Gaze

She stomped along the road, tears blurring her vision, anger boiling up from within her.   _How dare he?  How fucking_ dare _he!_  Swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, she dashed away tears, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.  She marched across the street to her father’s florist shop, but _Game of Thorns_ was closed up, the door locked and the lights off.  Lacey supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised; he never worked beyond six if he could help it.  Cut into drinking time.

His van was parked outside, with the shop’s logo emblazoned in bold colours: the van he had purchased six years ago with a loan from Mr Gold.  He had bitched about the rate for weeks, and she wondered if Gold had charged him extra for being a wannabe pimp.  She clutched at her chest with a whimper at the memory of what Gold had said, the betrayal like a physical pain.  Moe French had never been much of a father, and her mother’s death had driven a wedge between them anyway, but he was all she had, and to hear that he had tried to give her innocence to Gold in exchange for a fucking _van_ …

She kicked the front tyre in frustration, which hurt like hell, so she kicked it again, fury and pain giving her strength.  If only she had a knife!  She decided to let the tyres down instead, but that wasn’t enough to put a dent in her rage, so she glanced around, hoping to find something she could use.  The shop sold garden ornaments as well as plants, and she grabbed a worked metal ornamental flamingo with a wrought-iron filigree base, picking it up by its neck and swinging it like a baseball bat.  The first blow took the windshield out, and she let out a sob of rage as she swung it again, smashing the side window.  A third blow, and the wing mirror was bouncing on the floor.  Lacey wept, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Hey!”

The sound of running feet made her turn, and she swore under her breath as Sheriff Graham Humbert came sprinting over, his hand on his gun until he recognised her.  Lacey let the flamingo fall to the ground with a doleful clang, her arms weak from the strain.  The van door was dented, two of the three windows smashed.  It didn’t make her feel any better.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Graham, and she shrugged.

“Trashing my dad’s van, what’s it to you?”

Graham’s mouth flattened.

“Lacey, this is some serious damage,” he said.  “I can’t turn a blind eye, you know that.”

“Well of course not!” she snapped, stepping forward, her jaw protruding.  “You only turn a blind eye when it’s someone bigger than you, right?  Like I’m small and - and I’m _weak_ and people think they can do what the hell they like!”

Graham blinked at her, taken aback.

“Lacey…”

“Go fuck yourself!” she shouted, and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m taking you in,” he said firmly.  “You’re under arrest.”

* * *

He didn’t cuff her, which she supposed was something, and she stared mutinously at the back of his head as the car made the short trip to the sheriff’s station.  Graham glanced at her in the rear view mirror, his blue eyes filled with an odd blend of sternness and concern, and so she dropped her gaze to her hands, folded in her lap.  She felt numb, despite the cold air, and she chewed her lip until it bled as she heard Gold’s words over and over again in her mind.   _He offered me you.  Your virtue._

Graham processed her with barely a word, and she glared at the camera when he took her picture, imagining it was her father.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” he asked, when he was done.  Lacey stayed silent, and he rolled his eyes in frustration.

“You’re sure you don’t want a lawyer?” he added, and she shook her head.  Graham sighed.

“Look, Lacey, I called your dad to let him know what happened,” he said patiently.  “He’ll be here soon.”

Lacey curled her lip.

“Just put me in the bloody cell.”

The cot was hard, but she didn’t care.  She sat with her knees pressed together, elbows tucked in and head bowed.  It was the first time she had been on the wrong side of the bars in this place, and the sheriff’s station was noisier than she expected.  The phone rang a number of times, the sound shrill in her ears, the scrape of chair legs too loud against the floor, and Graham had to leave at one point.  He returned with Leroy in cuffs, protesting loudly and reeking of booze, his eyes bleary above his bristling beard.  He was placed in the cell next to Lacey, and shouted about his rights for ten minutes before he realised no one was paying attention.  He sat down on the cot with a thump and a muttered curse, and looked across at Lacey.

“So what are you in for, sister?” he asked gruffly.

“Trashed my dad’s van,” she said, her voice toneless, and he grunted.

“Well, I guess no one does that without a reason,” he said.  “He deserve it?”

“Oh, hell yes,” she said dryly, and he chuckled before settling back on his cot.

She didn’t have long to wait before she heard her father’s voice, raised in anger, and she sighed, getting to her feet as he stomped into the room.  Moe French was a large man, tall and broad, his face a little puffy from the drink he enjoyed, a battered baseball cap on his head.  The smell of whisky was drifting through the bars towards her, and she raised her chin, meeting his bloodshot eyes with her own.

“What the hell did you do to my van?” he demanded.  “I have deliveries to make tomorrow, what the fuck is your problem?”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to get off your ass and walk, then, won’t you?” she said, and Moe glared at her.

“Are you trying to bankrupt me?” he snapped.  “It’s bloody rent day!  I work hard enough as it is trying to make ends meet!”

“Oh yeah, you’re a real blue-collar hero!” she sneered.  “Drinking and yelling and smacking me around!  Offering my fucking _virginity_ to Mr Gold so he’d give you the money for that fucking van!”

Moe’s face turned blank, his mouth opening and closing, and she wanted to cry again.  It was true, then.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he blustered.

“Oh God, you’re such a _liar_!”

“Seriously?” said Leroy.  “You tried to pimp your own daughter out to Gold?  What the hell is wrong with you?”

Moe glared at him.

“Stay out of this, _dwarf_!” he snarled, and Leroy scowled.

“Hey, I’m _compact_!” he protested.

“Alright, can we keep it down in here?” asked Graham, coming back into the room and looking harassed.  Moe turned back to Lacey.

“If you think this is the end of it, you’re as dumb as you look,” he spat.  “I had _two bloody payments_ left on that loan!”

Lacey stuck out her chin.

“Well, why don’t you ask Gold to come over and cop a feel through the bloody bars?” she snapped.  “That ought to cover it, right?”

Moe gave her a nasty smile.

“Oh, you might have been worth something a few years ago, my girl,” he sneered.  “But not now.  There’s trash all over Storybrooke, and no one wants to pay to pick it up, least of all Gold.”

She pulled back, stung, and his grin widened.

“Wow, you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” remarked Leroy.

“Alright, that’s enough!” said Graham sharply.  “Moe, go home.  We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

He put a hand on Moe’s shoulder, steering him away from the cell, and Moe flapped a hand behind him as he was led out.

“I want her charged!” he shouted, and continued to bluster as Graham led him out of the building.

Lacey sank down onto the cot, her head hanging.

“You okay?” asked Leroy, and she shrugged.

“Not really,” she said.  “Thanks for sticking up for me, though.”

“No problem.  Your dad’s an asswipe, by the way.  No offence.”

“Oh, believe me, none taken,” she said dryly, and he chuckled and lay back on the cot, folding his hands over his chest.

Within a few minutes, he was snoring, and she sighed, wondering how long Graham was going to keep her in the cell.  It wasn’t as though she had any money to pay bail.  She picked at the nail polish on her thumbnail, casting tiny, blood red flakes to the floor.  This was turning into a real contender for worst day ever.

It was some time later that the sound of voices interrupted the rasping growl of Leroy’s snores.  Lacey sat up, looking curiously towards the corridor that led to the station entrance, and her heart sank a little as a familiar figure appeared, cane tapping on the polished floor.  Mr Gold’s eyes crinkled, his mouth stretching in a predatory smile.  He was wearing an overcoat, and Lacey noticed that not a speck of dust or a single stray hair marred the pristine black wool.  Leather gloves creaked as he folded his hands over the cane, its shining length placed between his feet.

“Miss French,” he said pleasantly.  “Imagine seeing you.”

“Mr Gold,” she said, raising her chin.  “What are you doing here?”

“Tracking down one of my non-paying tenants, of course.”

“You fucking came _looking_ for me?” she demanded, her tone incredulous.  Gold’s mouth twitched.

“Didn’t I tell you I would?”

“Dear God…”  Lacey rolled her eyes.  “Have you nothing better to do?”

“We agreed your rent was due by six, did we not?”

“I got _arrested_!” she snapped.  “Or did it escape your notice?”

“Indeed you did.”  He bared his teeth.  “And I’ve come to get you out.  Sheriff, if you would, please?”

Graham stepped over, giving Gold a wry look.

“Mr Gold’s paid your bail, Lacey,” he said.  “Do you think you can stay out of trouble until we get this cleared up?”

Lacey’s mouth twisted, and she flipped him a salute.

“I solemnly swear that I will not damage any more of my asshole father’s things,” she said, sounding as though she were reciting a pledge, and Graham shook his head.

“I think it’s best you two stay away from one another for a while,” he said sternly, and she huffed, folding her arms.

“Believe me, I don’t want to see that bastard if I can help it.”

“Good.”

He unlocked the cell, and she stepped out.  Leroy was still snoring on his cot, and she glanced away, back to Gold, who was still watching her with that infuriating little smile.

“You paid my bail,” she said.

“I did.”

“So…”  She shifted uncomfortably.  “So now I owe you the rent and the bail money, right?”

Gold showed his teeth.  “Right.”

“Right,” she said gloomily, and Gold gestured to the doorway with a gloved hand.

“If you wouldn’t mind accompanying me back to the shop, Miss French,” he said silkily.  “I believe there’s something we need to discuss.”

Lacey sighed, her heart sinking.  There was no way this could end well.

* * *

They walked to the shop, and she was surprised at how quickly he could move in spite of his limp.  She stayed silent by his side, trying to think of a way out of the situation she was in.  The bail money wasn’t so much of an issue; there was no question of her skipping town, so he’d get that back.  It was the rent that was the problem.  She still had no idea how she was going to get her hands on two hundred and ten dollars.   _Beyond offering to blow him._ She started, tripping a little as Ruby’s words sounded in her head again, and Gold put a steadying hand on her arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and she flinched, pulling away before nodding.

_I could offer that, I guess.  Become what Dad tried to fucking turn me into.  At least it would be my choice, not his._

They reached the shop, and Gold unlocked the door, the bell jingling as they stepped inside.  The lights were still on, and Lacey took a few steps inside, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.  The sound of the door locking behind her made her shiver, and she licked her lips, the tap of Gold’s cane sounding in her ears as he walked around her, a prowling wolf.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, and she blinked at him, unable to process his words.

“What?”

“Tea,” he said patiently.  “I could make some.”

Lacey swallowed, running a hand over her face.

“Got anything stronger?”

“As a matter of fact I do.”  He gestured to the space beyond the ancient cash register, where a curtain covered the entrance to the back room.  “If you please?”

Lacey followed him, eyes on his back as he pushed aside the curtain and ducked through.  The back room was filled with more stock, some in boxes, some stacked on shelves.  A large workbench sat there, pieces of a fob watch laid out carefully on a square of black cloth.  Gold had crossed to a carved wooden dresser and opened one of the cupboards, and she heard the clink of glass as he turned to face her, setting two glasses down on the bench.  A half-empty bottle of whisky followed, and Lacey watched silently as he poured two measures.  He held one out to her, lamplight gleaming through the amber liquid, and she took it, breathing in the scent as she took a sip.  The whisky was very good, smooth and nutty with a hint of spice and sea air.

“You paid my bail,” she said again, and he gave her a twisted smile.

“I did.”

“Why?”

Gold shrugged.

“I’m hardly likely to get the two hundred and ten dollars you owe me if you’re locked up, now am I?”

“I told you, I don’t have it!” she sighed, setting down her whisky glass.  “I’d give it to you if I did, believe me.”

“I do believe you,” he said, and took another sip of his drink.  “And therefore I’m very interested to hear how you’re going to earn this money.  You have ideas, I’m sure.”

“No, I…”

She cut off, tugging at her lip with her teeth.  He was right, damn him.  She had _one_ idea, at least.  She picked up her glass and took another drink.  A much bigger one.  The whisky burned as it went down, smooth heat in her throat spreading down to pool in her belly, a core of fire and heat deep within her.  She flicked her eyes up to meet his, and he held her gaze.  His eyes were large and dark, burning with their own fire, and she sucked in a breath, surprised by the sudden feeling of desire.  Perhaps this wouldn’t turn out to be the worst idea she’d had.

“I do have one idea,” she admitted.  “But I don’t know if you’ll go for it.  It doesn’t actually involve me giving you any money.”

“I can feel myself losing interest already,” he said dryly, and she held up a hand.

“Hear me out,” she said, nervousness making her roll the whisky glass between her fingers.  “I can’t pay you.  Not in cash, anyway.”

“I don’t take any other form of payment,” he said.  “As Mrs Lucas found to her cost when she tried to offer me free meals instead.”

“What about sex?” she blurted.

To Gold’s credit, his only response was a blink.

“If she’d offered me sex, I’d have increased her rent on principle.”

“Gold…”  She cut off, frustrated, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling as a blush started to rise in her cheeks.  “I meant - I meant _I_ was offering you sex.”

Gold sighed wearily.

“I’m aware of that,” he said, “but this conversation is highly uncomfortable and I was trying to lighten the mood.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a moment.  Lacey nibbled at her lower lip, watching him uncertainly.  He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and she saw his throat bob as he took another sip of his whisky.  The tension was killing her.  Gold lowered the glass, shaking his hair back before fixing her with a stare.

“You don’t want to do that,” he said calmly, and she dropped her hip, the other swinging outwards as her fingers curled around it.

“Really?” she said sardonically.  “You know everything about this town and its people, Mr Gold.  You must know my reputation.”

“I know that reputation and reality are not the same thing.”

“Like you, hmm?”  She raised an eyebrow.  “I think you just don’t want to run the risk of letting someone get close to you.  Could be you’re not half as bad as everyone says.”

Gold flashed a smile.  “Perhaps I’m worse.”

She didn’t bother arguing with him, because she wasn’t wholly convinced that wasn’t the case.  He was always so calm, so contained, and yet everyone was afraid of him, and she wondered if they could sense what she did.  There was an air of violence around him, a dark cloud that hung low and heavy, licking over his skin and sinking into his pores.  It showed in his eyes when someone crossed him, or lied to him, or gave him a feeble excuse along with their missed payment.  There was a spark there, deep in his eyes, lit from the core of darkness and rage that burned at the centre of him.  She imagined that if he ever lost his temper it would be a spectacular display of pure, undiluted wrath.

He was clearly thinking something over, and she stayed silent, waiting for him to speak.  Eventually Gold took another drink, setting down his glass and grounding his cane.

“I just bailed you out for a criminal damage offence,” he said quietly.  “Sheriff Graham’s exact words were _‘she beat the crap out of her father’s van with a metal flamingo’_.”

Lacey snorted in amusement, and he lifted a brow.

“Your father offered to trade me your virginity for money,” he said.  “And you were so angry with him that you partially destroyed his vehicle with a garden ornament.”

She lifted her chin.  “Yeah.  So?”

“And yet you now want to offer yourself in payment for rent,” he said softly.  “Why?”

She took another sip of whisky, relishing the fire on her tongue, burning through her and giving her courage.

“Because now it’s my choice, not his,” she said.  “Because it’s the easiest way I know to clear the debt.  And…”  She licked her lips.  “And because you told him no when he offered.  Which means you’re better than he is.”

“You hope.”

He took another drink, watching her over the rim of his glass.

“I…”  She hesitated, trying to get the words in her mind into some sort of order.  “I _believe_.”

There was silence again.  Gold tipped the glass, the heavy old moonstone ring he wore on his finger winking in the light.  He drank the last of the whisky, the tip of his tongue sweeping across his lips to catch the taste of it, and she waited, her heart thumping.  He set down the empty glass and reached for the bottle, holding it up.  She drained her own glass, setting it next to his for him to pour another measure.

“So,” he said quietly.  “What is it you’re offering?”

Lacey hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself.

“I - um…”  She trailed off, chewing her lip.  “I guess - I guess maybe I’ll have sex with you?  And - and you’ll waive the rent?”

“Is this a proposal or a question?”

“It’s…”  She took a breath, snatching up her glass.  “Okay, I’ll have sex with you.  And in return you’ll waive the rent.  Deal?”

“You want me to waive two hundred and ten dollars in exchange for a quick fuck in the back of my shop?” he said, his tone sneering, and she felt herself flush.

“It’ll only be quick if you make it quick!” she snapped, and wanted to swallow the words as his eyes widened.  To her surprise he chuckled, the light of amusement in his eyes.

“Fair point,” he acknowledged.

He looked her up and down, and Lacey felt her heart beat harder, her pulse throbbing in her throat.

“So - what do you think?” she asked.  “Do you want me?”

Gold smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“I think,” he said.  “I think perhaps that we might be able to make a deal.”


	3. My Own Way Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time Lacey offered to sleep with Gold to pay her rent, and opinion in the comments seemed to be divided over whether he would (or indeed should) go through with it. So here's what happened :)

Lacey watched him over the rim of her glass, her heart thumping with a mix of trepidation and the first hints of arousal.  She was surprised by that; she hadn’t really thought of him in that way before, at least not consciously.  Okay, there had been the odd dream in which he had played a starring role, and from which she had woken feeling flushed and aching a little between the legs.  It had been hard to meet his eyes after that, and she had been thankful that they didn’t interact much.  She had told herself it was her subconscious reacting to him having power over her, and had scoffed at any thought of it being because she actually had any interest in him.  And now she had just offered to sleep with him, and was excited by the prospect.  Weird.

“So you’ll do it, then?” she asked, and his mouth flattened.

“Why don’t you tell me what you spent the money on first?”

“I told you,” she sighed.  “I had less work, and I couldn’t scam the guys at the Rabbit Hole like I usually do.  Ruby says I should switch to poker.”

“So no unexpected items of expenditure, then?” he asked.

“What I spend my money on is my business.”

“It is until you can’t pay your rent, yes.”

She licked her lips, staying mute.  He could hear lies, she was sure of it.  Gold put down his glass, raising his chin a little, and she lifted a brow, wanting to change the subject.

“Well?” she said.  “How about it?”

Gold let out the tiniest noise, a low, guttural sound from the base of his throat, his eyes raised to the ceiling, as though he were weary of the entire idea.

“You know, you could easily have proposed something less sordid,” he said.  “Helping out in the shop, for example.  I might have been persuaded that I needed an assistant.”

“But you don’t,” she said patiently.  “No one ever comes in here, and I know for a fact you spend most of your time in this room tinkering with shit.  The _last_ thing you need is an assistant.”

He looked a little taken-aback, and she put down her own glass, folding her arms.

“And watch who you’re calling sordid!” she snapped.  “How is using my body that way any worse than working my arse off serving burgers at Granny’s all day, huh?  What, because it’s sex, it’s somehow dirty?”

He held up a hand, palm outwards.

“Apologies,” he said.  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes you bloody did.”

She glowered at him, and Gold sighed, letting his hand fall against his leg with a soft slap.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I was just - well, I was curious, I suppose.”

“About what?”

“About why you would choose to offer me sex when you could have offered something less - intimate.”

_Because I think that deep down, you’re lonely.  Because I think you want me.  And because I think I want you too._

“Well, it’ll be over way quicker than working a second job at this place, right?” she said, and he burst out laughing, his eyes gleaming.

“Quite what that says about my prowess I dread to think,” he said dryly.  “But i suspect you’re right.”

“Well then.”  She stuck her chin out, bouncing a little on one foot and making her hips swing.  Gold blinked.

“What, you want to do it now?” he asked.  “Are you expecting me to just drop my pants and bend you over the desk, or what?”

“Gold…”

She began to pace, blushing, and he let out a low chuckle.  Lacey turned on the balls of her feet to face him, her cheeks still pink.

“Look, let’s just arrange a time and - and a night,” she said.  “How about tomorrow?”

He looked her up and down, and the tip of his tongue swept across his lips.

“Alright,” he said eventually.  “Shall I come to your apartment?”

“No!” she said at once.  “No, I’ll - I’ll come to yours.”

His eyes had narrowed a little, and she tried to smile.

“Look, the place is a mess,” she reasoned.

“All the more reason to clean it up, then.”

“And - and if you come over to my place and stay any longer than ten minutes, people are gonna talk,” she added.  “I’m guessing you don’t want the whole of Storybrooke knowing that you’re banging the town slut, right?”

His mouth flattened.

“Don’t call yourself that,” he said, and she shrugged.

“Why not?  Everyone else does.  It doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?”  He took another drink.  “Somehow I doubt that.”

She opened her mouth to insist that it didn’t, but there was something in his eyes that made her swallow her words.  A dark certainty, a _knowing_ , as though his gaze could pull apart her layers and see through to her very core.  Her breath hitched a little, and she looked away, reaching for her drink.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter,” she muttered.  “I just - I think it would be better if I came over to your place.”

“Alright,” he said again, after a pause.  “Shall we say eight o’clock?”

_Shit!  Am I really doing this?  Am I really going to sleep with this guy?_

“Eight o’clock,” she heard herself say.  “I’ll bring condoms.”

“Very well.”

A heavy silence had fallen between them, thick and ominous, as though neither knew what to say now that the decision had been made.

“Do you…”  Gold cleared his throat, and she looked up, meeting his eyes.  “Do you - want something in writing?  Our agreement?”

“Will I need it?” she asked.  “I thought you always kept your word.”

“I do.”

“Well then.”  She drained her glass, setting it down on the workbench with a clunk.  “Maybe we should shake on it, though.”

Gold nodded, looking oddly unsure of himself.

“Very well,” he said.  “Assuming you can’t get the money to me by eight o’clock tomorrow evening, I agree to waive two hundred and ten dollars, in return for your - service.”

She stuck out her hand, and he looked at it as though it were a live viper.  Swallowing hard, he reached out and grasped it with his own.  His hand was cool and smooth, fingers wrapping around hers and gently squeezing.  His eyes flicked up to hers, dark and deep and ancient, burning with that inner fire, and she felt her belly clench in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“The deal is struck,” he said quietly.

* * *

She slept poorly that night, a strange mix of apprehension and arousal making her restless.  The next morning she had a shift at the diner, and she downed two coffees before she could get going, yawning as she set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Leroy.

“Extra bacon,” she told him.  “And your breakfast’s on me.  Don’t tell Granny, okay?”

Leroy grinned up at her, his eyes still bloodshot and his shirt wrinkled from his night in the cell, and she patted his shoulder as she turned back to the kitchen.  Ruby nudged her as she went past with a tray of dirty plates.

“Gold’s here,” she warned.  “Want to hide out the back?”

Lacey looked across to the door, where Gold had just entered.  He met her eyes briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching, and then made his way to a table by the window, the other customers averting their gaze.

“It’s okay, I’ll see to him,” she sighed, and Ruby blinked.

“You got the rent money?” she asked.  “How?”

“Not exactly,” admitted Lacey.  “But we came to an agreement, it’s cool.”

She walked off before Ruby could ask her any more questions, pulling the little pad from the pocket of her apron.  Gold looked up as she paused by his table, one hand grasping his cane.

“Miss French,” he said politely.  “A pleasant morning.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” said Lacey dismissively.  “Black coffee, right?  Or are you gonna really raise some hell and order a Danish?”

His mouth stretched in a smile that made his gold tooth gleam and his eyes crinkle.

“Just coffee, thank you.”

She pretended to make a note of his order while she studied him.  There were lines around his eyes and mouth, and silver hairs at his temples.  She wondered how old he was.  Older than her father, she thought, though perhaps not by much.  Maybe early fifties.  He kept himself in better shape, though.  Perhaps a little too thin, but she knew how it was when you lived alone and cooking a full meal for one seemed like too much work.  She wondered what he looked like naked, and blushed as she realised she would probably find that out very soon.

“Is there something you didn’t understand about an order of black coffee, dear?”

Lacey jumped.

“Sorry, I’m - I didn’t sleep well,” she said, tucking the pad in her apron, and his grin widened.

“Well, perhaps you should have an early night.”

She opened and closed her mouth, reddening further, and stomped off to the kitchens before she could tell him where to shove his coffee.  Ruby raised an eyebrow at her as she passed.

“Just coffee, right?” she said.  “He never wants anything else.”

 _Except to get under my skin, apparently_.

“Just coffee,” she said.  “I’ll get it.”

She snatched up the coffee pot, carrying it over to the table with a cup, and Gold watched as she poured the coffee in a thin, dark stream.

“That’s excellent, Miss French, thank you,” he said.

“No problem.”

She wanted to walk away, but it was as though she was rooted to the floor.  Gold picked up the coffee and took a sip, his tongue moistening his lips as he swallowed.  He looked up at her, the light of amusement in his eyes.

“D’you know, I think I _will_ order breakfast,” he said.  “I feel the need for a little more sustenance today, for some reason.”

She glowered at him, but put down the coffee pot and pulled the pad from her pocket again.

“What’ll it be?”

“Bacon and eggs, with some toast,” he said.  “I’ll have the eggs scrambled, if you please.  Oh, and a short stack of pancakes on the side.  The extra energy would be welcome.”

He grinned at her, and she looked around, but no one was paying them any attention, and so she leaned on the table, pushing her face closer to his.

“Are you torturing me for a reason?” she hissed, and he looked surprised.

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes you bloody well do!” she whispered.  “I made the deal with you!  It was _my idea_!  You don’t have to stalk me all day, I’ll keep my bloody word!”

He sat back in his chair, eyeing her for a moment, and nodded.

“I thought perhaps you might want to change your mind, having slept on the matter,” he said finally.  “In which case I’m open to suggestions.”

Lacey straightened up, sighing.

“Well, I don’t have any,” she said.  “Are you saying you want to break our deal?”

He ran a finger over his upper lip, his eyes flickering over her.

“No,” he said.  “I always honour my agreements.”

“Right, well in that case you can sit here and shut up,” she snapped.  “I’ll bring your damn breakfast.”

She snatched up the coffee pot again and stomped off, feeling his eyes on her back.

Gold seemed to spend far longer in the diner than was necessary.  She brought his breakfast, setting it down without a word, and shot him the odd glance as she was taking other orders and clearing tables.  He ate everything on the plate, to her surprise, and she refilled his coffee twice, but he didn’t meet her eyes again, merely thanking her with a murmur when she cleared away the dishes.  At one point he stood up, and she heaved a sigh of relief, assuming he was about to leave, but he only walked out into the corridor that housed the bathrooms and the line of hooks where the staff hung their coats.  Five minutes later he was back, and unfolded a newspaper, sitting back in his chair to read it.

She was aware that the shop opened at eight thirty, and at twenty-five past he folded his paper, standing up and shrugging on his overcoat.  He pushed some money under the coffee cup, but didn’t look around, and she heaved a sigh of relief as he made his way out.  She went to clear away his cup, noting that he had left her a ten dollar tip.   _Adequate payment for the teasing, I guess_ , she thought sourly.

By the time her shift finished at two in the afternoon her feet were killing her, and she untied her apron, rolling her shoulders to loosen her muscles.  She needed a hot bath, but first there were errands to run, and she imagined Graham would want to talk to her about that stupid van at some point.  Maybe he’d be willing to wait until tomorrow; she wasn’t sure if she could face that conversation today.

She stomped into the corridor and snatched her jacket off the peg, pulling it on, her mood darkening.  Trashing her father’s van had been satisfying, but in the cold light of day she knew that she was in trouble.  It would mean a fine, at the very least, and she’d probably have to pay for the damage, which pissed her off.  When would _he_ pay for the damage he’d done to _her_ all these years?

Scowling to herself, she tugged the jacket closed.  It was a little uncomfortable, something digging into her hip, and her brow wrinkled, one hand patting the side.  There was something in the pocket.  She slipped her hand inside, curious, and felt a roll of paper, thick and somehow familiar.  Pulling it out, her mouth fell open as she saw a roll of twenty-dollar bills, secured by an elastic band.  Hands shaking, she pulled off the band and shuffled through the money, counting in her head.  Two hundred dollars.

Lacey felt her heart thump, and she shook her head.  How the _hell_?

“Hey.”

Ruby’s voice made her look around, and she shoved the money back in her pocket.

“You in tomorrow?” asked Ruby, and Lacey ran a hand over her face.

“What?  Yeah, yeah, I think so,” she said vaguely.  Ruby put her head to the side.

“You okay?” she asked.  “Still stressing about that rent thing?”

“No.”  Lacey tried to smile.  “No, I think I fixed it.  See you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing.”

Ruby flashed her a smile, trotting out of the door, and Lacey pulled out the money again, counting it a second time to be sure.  Frowning to herself, she shoved it back in her pocket, straightening the jacket and stalking to the door.  Someone had some explaining to do.

She wasn’t expecting there to be anyone in Gold’s shop, because there never _was_ anyone in Gold’s shop, so when she barged in with her mouth open, about to yell at him, seeing her own father standing at the counter was a shock.  She snapped her mouth shut, shrinking back.

“You saw what that daughter of mine did to it, Gold.”  Moe was pleading, and Gold looked unimpressed.   _Good._

“The state of your vehicle holds no interest for me,” he said.  “I’ve told you that I won’t be lending you any more money without some form of collateral.  You’ve proven an unacceptable financial risk.”

“Well, what about the van?” suggested Moe, and Gold smiled thinly.

“You mean the van that you just informed me has been severely damaged?” he asked.  “I think not.”

“Listen, Gold…”

Moe cut off as Gold held up a hand, catching Lacey’s eye over Moe’s shoulder.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Miss French,” he said smoothly, and Moe whirled to face her.  His mouth twisted in a sneer.

“Well, there she is,” he spat.  “Come to ruin my livelihood a little more?”

“Come to try to sell me to Gold again?” she returned, putting her hands on her hips.

“I told you yesterday, I doubt he’s interested in being last in line!”

“That’s enough,” said Gold, his voice freezing.  “Mr French, I’m not lending you anything further until you pay back what you already owe me.  That’s my final word on the matter.”

Moe glared at him, mouth opening and closing, and then pushed away from the counter, storming out of the shop.  Lacey instinctively ducked out of his way as he passed, dodging aside as if to avoid a blow.  He didn’t look at her, but stomped off up the street, and she heaved a sigh of relief before stepping back into the shop and letting the door close behind her.  The bell rang above her head, and then silence fell.

Gold was standing behind the counter, fully attired in his silk shirt, waistcoat and jacket.  The shirt was a deep red, a matching handkerchief tucked into his pocket.  His fingers were drumming the counter top, gold ring gleaming in the light and matching the glint in his dark eyes.

“Miss French,” he said softly.

The sound of his voice seemed to break the strange spell that had fallen on her, and she pushed away from the door, walking over to the counter and slapping the money down in front of him.

“What the hell is this?” she demanded, and he eyed her for a moment before dropping his gaze to the pile of bills.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears to be money,” he said.  “United States dollars, to be precise, in denominations of twenty.  Non-sequential, I suspect, though it’s difficult to tell at a glance...”

“Dammit, Gold!”  She leaned on the counter, frustrated.  “There’s two hundred dollars there!”

He looked up, a spark of interest in his eyes.

“Indeed?  Are you telling me you want to pay the remainder of your rent?”

“Well, I…”  She sank back on her heels.

“Because, as you’re aware, you were short by two hundred and ten.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

She pushed back, running her hands over her face, and peered at him through her fingers.  He was watching her, his face impassive.

“Was this you?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Me?” he asked softly.  “Why on earth would I give you money, only to take it back?”

“I don’t know, I just…”  She put her hands on her hips, chewing her lip.  “Who else would do it?  You have the money, the - the opportunity…”

“But no motive,” he finished.

“Well, who else would it be?”

“I have no idea.”  He showed his teeth.  “Perhaps you have a benefactor, Miss French.”

She snorted at the idea of that, shooting him a wry look, and he smiled slightly.

“Are you here to settle your outstanding rent, or not?”

Lacey hesitated, leaning on the counter with tented fingers.

“Okay,” she said eventually.  “I guess - I guess Fortune favours the brave, huh?”

His grin widened.

“I like to think so.”

He picked up his rent ledger, opening it up and sliding a long finger down a column of names.  A red mark had been made to the side of hers, with the amount she owed next to it.  Gold counted out the money, and looked up at her.

“There’s still ten short,” he said quietly, and she rolled her eyes, reaching into her pocket for the day’s tips.  It hadn’t escaped her notice that he had tipped her what she needed to clear the rent in full.  She peeled ten dollars off the top, sliding it across the counter to him, and he smirked a little as he crossed through the amount due and initialled the entry.

“Why thank you, Miss French,” he said softly.  “You are now paid in full.”

He put down his pen, settling back on his heel a little as he looked up at her.

“Right,” she said.  “Well, I guess - I guess that’s it then.”

“I guess so.”

He was watching her steadily, still with that infuriating little smile.  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about their deal, but there something in his eyes made her bite it back and swallow it down.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and his eyebrow twitched.

“Thank _you._ ”

She nodded, pushing away from the counter and folding her arms around herself.

“I guess I’ll see you.”

“Yes.”  He let the ledger close with a soft thump.  “Good day, Miss French.”

She nodded again, turning away, and walked out, the bell jingling above her as she left the shop.  Every moment she spent in the presence of that man only made things more confusing.

* * *

Gold watched her go with an odd mix of relief and regret.  Lacey French was beautiful, and as a purveyor of beautiful things he could appreciate her porcelain skin and vivid blue eyes and soft, deep pink lips.  But he could also recognise fragility, and there were cracks in her, just below the surface, hidden beneath a thin veneer of bluster and bravado.  He had decided some time ago that he wouldn’t be the one to let her fall and shatter.

He put his rent ledger away, sliding it onto its shelf beneath the counter.  He could easily afford two hundred and ten dollars, of course, and therefore this whole charade was unnecessary, but that wasn’t the point.  He trusted Miss French not to abuse his generosity, and rationalising it in his head, he figured it was payback for his own actions.  He reasoned that the punishing rate of interest he had charged her father over the past six years - a rate that had been higher than first suggested due to the unsavoury offer Moe had made _him_ \- had probably led to her suffering in some way.  This way they were even, and his conscience, such as it was, was clear.  He was intrigued to know what she had spent the money on, though; he didn’t believe her tale of fewer working hours for a second.  There was something she was keeping from him.  He told himself it didn’t matter.

Her offer of sex had taken him by surprise, and for a moment the darker part of him had been tempted.  It had been longer than he could remember since he had enjoyed the touch of a woman, and she was certainly attractive enough to have made the proposed encounter more than appealing.  Something told him that she was nowhere near as experienced as the town gossips said, and the thought of being the one to give her pleasure was alluring.  He wasn’t entirely sure why he had gone along with the ruse, turning up to the diner and taunting her, and had no explanation beyond the fact that he was a fucking bastard.  Which everyone knew, anyway.

He went over the accounts while he was there, making amendments from the day’s trading to keep his records up to date.  Miss French hurried past at one point, a large cardboard box in her arms and her head down, muttering to herself.  He frowned thoughtfully, wondering what she was up to, but then turned away from the counter, stepping through to the back room.  It was none of his business.  Miss French had no further reason to speak with him beyond serving him his morning coffee, and he suspected she was as relieved as he.

* * *

He closed up at just after six, driving the short distance to his large house at the edge of town and swinging the Cadillac into the driveway.  It was already dark, but he left a light shining on the porch, the warm glow welcoming him home.  Once inside, he took off his jacket and tie, unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt with a sigh, and went to make himself some dinner.  He wasn’t overly hungry; the large breakfast had left him with little appetite for the rest of the day, and so he settled for a small helping of roasted tomato and basil risotto, drizzled with fragrant, earthy olive oil and tangy with grated Parmesan cheese.  He ate it with a glass of very dry white wine, sitting at his kitchen table and planning the next day’s activities in his head.  He had some stragglers to chase up for rent, and some appraisals to do, and he suspected that there were other deals to be made.

He was in the middle of washing the dishes when the knock at the door came, and he frowned to himself, wiping his hands on a dishtowel and dropping it on the kitchen counter before grabbing his cane.  It wasn’t unheard of for tenants to visit this late, of course, but it would have to be something urgent to make them disturb him at home.  The only other possible visitor was the Mayor, and he certainly had no wish to see her.  Preparing a series of well-constructed insults in his mind, he limped to the front door, reaching for the lock and pulling it open.

Lacey French stood there, bouncing on her toes and chewing her bottom lip, and he felt his mouth fall open in shock.

“Hey,” she said uncertainly.  “Can I come in?”


	4. Breathe Again

Gold looked surprised at her appearance on his doorstep, his eyes flicking over her rapidly before narrowing a little.  He was more casual than Lacey had ever seen him, with his tie off and sleeves pushed up and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened.  She could see the skin at the top of his chest, smooth and warm and lightly tanned, and she focused on the hollow at the base of his throat.  She wondered how he would taste if she drew her tongue across his skin, and felt a tug in her belly.  He swallowed, his throat bobbing, and Lacey raised her eyes to his, shuffling her feet.

“Gold,” she said.  “I’m freezing my tits off out here, are you gonna let me in or not?”

He blinked and stepped back, holding open the door, and she slipped inside, heaving a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind her and shut out the bitter wind.  The hallway was warm, the walls painted a dusky pink and hung with elaborately-framed mirrors and small paintings.  She looked around with interest, and shrugged off her jacket, draping it over the post at the end of the banister.  She was wearing one of her tight dresses, black velvet with lace for the sleeves and across the chest, the soft fabric clinging to her curves and only just covering her rear.  Her heels were too high to be comfortable, but she knew she looked good, and she could feel his eyes on her as she walked slowly into the lounge.  It was filled with beautiful pieces of antique furniture and fine china, patterned vases lined up beside delicate cups and saucers, bookshelves crammed with old volumes of the classics.  A small table with curved, elegant legs held a silver music box and a vase made from frosted glass and filled with silk flowers.  She imagined that he kept a lot of stock at the house as well as the shop; there was an air of organised clutter about the place.

There was a tap on the wooden floor behind her as Gold followed her into the room, and she turned to face him.  He was leaning against the doorframe, the cane out to the right of him, and not for the first time she wondered how he had injured himself.

“What are you doing here, Miss French?” he asked quietly.

“You asked me to come over at eight.”

Gold stared at her.

“Yes,” he said patiently.  “Yes, if you failed to pay me what you owe me.  That no longer applies.  You’re paid up.”

“I know.  Because you slipped me that cash, right?”

Gold’s eyes narrowed a little.

“You have no proof of that.”

“No,” she admitted.  “But no one else would do it, so it had to be you.  You took a hit just to stop me from having to - well, having to sleep with you.  Not many guys would do that.”

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards.

“Perhaps I just wasn’t interested in sleeping with you.”

She shot him a flat look, her mouth twisting.

“Yeah, you were,” she said.

He gave her a long look, and she felt a shiver go through her at the heat in his eyes.  Gold glanced away after a moment, shaking his hair back.

“Well, whether or not that’s true,” he said.  “I’m still at a loss to understand why you’re here when you don’t have to be.”

_Because you’re lonely.  I can see it now, pouring off you in waves.  Because I’m lonely too.  And because I want you._

He was still staring at her, eyes boring through her, as though he could see to the very heart of her, and Lacey shrugged, glancing away to avoid his scrutiny.  To avoid anything that might have touched on her emotions.

“I kind of spent an entire day and most of the night trying to psych myself up for the whole thing,” she said, in an offhand tone.  “And - and now it’s all been pulled away from me, and - and that feels a little weird.  Like I have all this nervous energy and nothing to do with it, you know?”

“I hear running is an excellent release of endorphins, if that’s what you seek.”

“Maybe my way would be better,” she suggested.  “More fun with two, right?”

He closed his eyes for a moment.  They were very dark when they opened, like the polished wood of the table carrying the music box.  She wished he would offer her a drink, so she had something else to focus on other than how good he looked with his shirt open and his sleeves pushed up.  He had nice forearms, with tanned skin and fine, silky hair.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come over tonight, Miss French,” he said quietly.  “You owe me nothing.”

“This wouldn’t be a payment!” she insisted.  “It could just be a - a _thing_!  Like a one-nighter.”

“For an encounter to mean something, the two parties should have something in common, don’t you think?”

“Does it have to mean something?” she asked.  “Can’t it just be - I don’t know - like an experiment?  A test of compatibility?”

“You sound like one of those tedious online dating advertisements.”

She settled back on one foot, looking him up and down.

“So you’re turning me down,” she said, and he shrugged.

“I think it would be a complication that neither of us needs.”

She rolled her eyes, a little hurt by the rejection, but trying not to be.  She had suspected that he had been uncomfortable with her proposal from the start, and teasing her about it in the diner had just been him being a bastard.

“Don’t see why it has to be complicated,” she grumbled.  “But okay.  I guess me and my libido’ll slink back home, then.”

“I daresay you’ve had many years of not being sexually attracted to me,” he said dryly.  “It shouldn’t be too difficult to revert to type.”

Lacey sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

“Look, Gold, you don’t exactly look as though you’re about to welcome in a bunch of close friends for a house party, right?”

“Thank goodness for that.”

“And I’m definitely not gonna ask you to throw me down on the floor and shag me senseless if you don’t want to,” she added, and he smirked.

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“But you could at least offer me a drink before you make me walk home in the freezing cold.”

He was silent for a moment, watching her, his fingers opening and closing on the handle of his cane, and she wondered what was going through his mind.

“Miss French, would you like a drink?” he asked eventually, and she smiled.

“I would,” she said.  “And the name’s Lacey.”

He nodded.  “How about a glass of wine, then?”

She followed him through to the kitchen, and he poured them each a glass of red wine.

“I was just cleaning up when you got here,” he said.  “Do you mind?”

He gestured at the few dishes that remained, and she shook her head, watching and sipping at her wine as he plunged his hands back into the sink.  It was an oddly domestic scene, Gold with his sleeves rolled up and soap suds clinging to his skin, his hair gleaming in the light as he scrubbed at a stainless steel pan.  She wondered if she should offer to dry, but figured that he hadn’t fed her, so she didn’t have to.  She was curious about what he had eaten, and whether he was a good cook, or if he lived on ramen and Pop Tarts, like she was forced to at times.

He stacked the pan on top of the other dishes on the drainer rack, wiping foam from his forearms and shaking it into the sink as he let the water drain out.  Picking up a dishtowel, he dried his hands and hung it over the handle of the oven door before taking his wineglass, grasping his cane and gesturing to the door.

“Follow me,” he said quietly, and made his way out.

She was expecting him to go into the lounge, so was surprised when he turned off to the right and went through another door.  The dining room was large and cool, a long, heavy table in dark, polished wood set around with ten chairs.  The chairs had tall, ornately-carved backs and cushions upholstered in dark red and cream striped silk.  The chairs set at head and foot had carved arms, curves of mahogany so well fitted that they looked as though they had grown naturally out of the frame, and Lacey followed the flowing lines with her eyes, loops and whorls in the shining wood.

Gold set his wineglass on the table and pulled out a chair, sitting down and leaning back with his cane to the right, lounging a little with one forearm stretched along the arm of the chair.  Long fingers stroked the curving end of it, sliding over the rounded, polished wood, and she licked her lips as she met his eyes.  He picked up his glass and took a sip, his knees spreading outwards a little, and she cradled her drink, breathing in the rich scent as she looked around.  There were more pieces of antique furniture here, dressers and sideboards filled with glassware and crystal decanters, porcelain dishes and tea sets.  The lights were low, lamps standing in the corners of the room, a chandelier with dozens of crystal droplets hanging above the table, its bulbs unlit.  The room felt unused, as though it were ready for guests at any time, but never saw any.  There was a lonely air to it, not helped by Gold’s silent presence at the head of the table.  She took a drink to occupy herself, enjoying the heavy, fruity taste of the wine on her tongue.

“You have a lot of things,” she observed.

“Stock, mostly,” he said.  “I rotate it between here and the shop, other than the odd piece I have no intention of selling.”

“Like what?” she asked, and he gestured towards the dresser stacked with china dishes.

“There’s a tea set in there I won’t part with,” he said.  “A chaise longue that I’m very fond of.  The clock in the lounge.  My bed.”

He took a drink, flashes of deep red gleaming through crystal facets, and she shivered a little, hunching her shoulders.  She hadn’t expected to be so nervous, and she wondered if it was the room, the lonely, heavy atmosphere and the fact that he was sitting in that high-backed chair as though she was nothing more than a servant.

“So, is this what you do all evening?” she asked.  “Sit around drinking wine and being dramatic?  I’m guessing you don’t usually sit in here, right?”

“Depends what I’m doing,” he said.  “But you’re right, this is probably the room I spend least time in.”

“Thought so.”  She sent him a look.  “You trying to intimidate me?  Because it’s working.”

“I highly doubt that.”

He took another drink of wine, watching her, and lowered the glass, the tip of his tongue running along the seam of his lips.  One finger tapped against the side of the glass, and he raised an eyebrow.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”  She took a swig of the wine.

“I saw you go past my shop today,” he said.  “You had a cardboard box in your arms.  What was in it?”

“Nothing,” she said immediately, and cursed inwardly at her own defensiveness.  Gold’s smile grew.

“Interesting.”

“I mean - I mean nothing important,” she amended, trying to allay his suspicions.  “Just stuff, that’s all.”

“Stuff, hmm?”

“Things,” she said, wishing her brain would give her something she could use.  “I was just - I’d been shopping.”

“When you had no money for the rent?”

“I had my tips,” she said defensively, and he shrugged.

“Clearly it’s a great and terrible secret, so let’s move on,” he said.  “You came over tonight to - fulfil the terms of our deal.  Knowing there was no need to.”

“Yeah, I know.”  She shrugged a little uncomfortably.  “Like I said, I’d kind of worked myself up to doing it.”

“But I have no doubt that if you had an - an itch that needed scratching, you could have gone elsewhere,” he said, “so why me?”

Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Because you’re the only guy in town who’s actually treated me like a person,” she said.  “Apart from Leroy, I guess, but he’s just a friend.”

“I see.”

“Actually,” she amended, “he’s more like a weird uncle that gets drunk and spoils family dinners, but would fight anyone if they insulted you.”

“Really?”  Gold was almost grinning.

“And I guess Archie Hopper’s a decent guy,” she went on, “but I don’t think he even likes people in that way, and…”

She cut off, flushing slightly at his look of amusement.

“Besides, I was curious,” she added, and he raised a brow.

“About what?”

“About - about you,” she said.  “I mean you creep around town like a - like some kind of unholy mix of vampire and mobster...”

“That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she remarked.  “Stop interrupting.”

“Apologies.”

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, so yeah - immortal mob boss with great taste in suits,” she said.  “And I’ve never seen you get violent, but everyone’s still scared of you.”

“With good reason.”

“And - and yet you can still do something nice, like you did for me.”  She shrugged, taking a sip of wine.  “It’s - well, it’s intriguing, I guess.”

“I still haven’t admitted to that,” he said sternly, and she grinned.

“Forget I said anything.  Let’s pretend you’re the evil bastard everyone else thinks you are.”

He shot her a wry look.

“So you thought you’d proposition said evil bastard?”

He still had that irritating smirk on his face, and she shifted from foot to foot.

“I’m just saying I think you’re interesting, that’s all,” she said.  “Plus you’re clever.  Intelligence is sexy.”

“I’m also far too old for you.”

“Why?”  She put her hands on her hips, the wine sloshing.  “What does that even mean?  I’m an adult, and so are you.”

He shrugged, as though he accepted her point, and she nodded.

“Besides, I think you’re lonely, and you won’t admit it,” she added.

“Perhaps I simply enjoy solitude,” he said, and she lifted her chin.

“Solitude and loneliness aren’t the same thing.”

He inclined his head, lifting his glass.

“No more are desire and pity.”

“Is - is that why you think I’m here?” she demanded.  “You think I feel sorry for you?  You think I’d - I’d do this just for kicks, or because I don’t have cable and I’m bored?”

“I have no idea,” he said, and took another drink.  “You described yourself as the town slut.  The qualifications required to fill that position are somewhat flexible, I imagine.”

“God, you’re a bastard!”  She began to pace, wine sloshing in her glass.  “I have no idea why I bloody came over!”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

She squared her jaw, spinning on her toes to face him, and drank the last of her wine, putting her glass down on the table.

“Fine,” she said coldly.  “Sorry to have bothered you.  I’ll let you get back to - whatever it is you do all night when you’re not being a patronising shit.”

Gold sighed, sitting forward and sliding his half-empty wineglass onto the table.

“I apologise for any offence,” he said.  “If you must know I’ve actually found our conversation to be a pleasant distraction.”

Lacey looked him up and down, pursing her lips, and then nodded.

“Okay,” she said, still cross with him.  “Well, thanks for the wine, I guess.  I’d better go.”

“I’ll see you out.”

He pushed himself to his feet with the cane, and led her back out into the hallway, snagging her jacket from the banister as he passed.

“Why don’t I run you home?” he offered.  “You’re right, it’s freezing out there.”

“Are you okay to drive?”

“I haven’t even had two glasses, it should be fine.”

“Oh.”  She wavered, not wanting to inconvenience him, but the thought of not having to walk outside in the cold air was tempting.  “Okay then.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He leant his cane against the hall table, holding up the jacket for her, and she grinned to herself as she put her arms through the sleeves.

“Is something amusing?” he asked, and she shrugged, shivering slightly as he straightened her collar, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck.

“Oh, just the fact that you did something else nice,” she said.

“It’s called manners, dear,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, well, you can add that to the list of attractive qualities,” she said.  “The last guy I kissed stuck me with the bloody bar tab.”

She turned to face him, straightening her jacket, and sucked in a breath.  She hadn’t realised he had been standing so close, and his body was only inches from hers.  Her heart thumped, and she watched a slow grin creep across his face.

“You think I’m going to kiss you?” he asked, and his voice was at once soft and rough, a low growl that rumbled out from the depths of his chest.  She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the shining path of her tongue.

“I think - I think you want to,” she whispered.  “I can tell.”

His grin widened.

“Perhaps.”

“But you’re holding back,” she said.  “Why?”

Gold sighed, looking weary, and leaned against the door frame..

“Because, very rarely, I have been known to do the right thing,” he said.  “This is one of those times.”

“Why?”

He sucked his teeth, giving her a calculating look, as though he was uncertain what to tell her.

“Because I think that whatever has happened to you in life has left you damaged,” he said finally.  “And I have no wish to break you further.”

Well, that wasn’t the answer she had expected.

“What makes you think you would?” she asked, and he gave her a rueful smile, taking a step back from her and reaching to take his overcoat from its hook.

“I do have a certain level of self-awareness, you know,” he said dryly, as he shrugged it on.  “And I’m sorry to say that I’ve been inclined to push the self-destruct button on more than one occasion in my life.”

“Well, I can relate to that,” she grumbled.

“No doubt.”  He opened the door.  “But I have no desire to see you burn with me, Lacey.”

It was the first time he had used her name, and he spoke it with care, as though it were a delicate thing, easily broken by harshness.  She swallowed hard, and he gave her a tiny, twisted smile.

“Come,” he said softly.  “Let’s get you home.”


	5. Keep My Heart in My Pocket

The journey was short, and made in silence.  Lacey watched him out of the corner of her eye as he drove, one hand on the gear lever, the streetlights shining on his skin and casting shadows across his face.  She watched his hair move as he looked from left to right, the moonlight shining through it, and the car drew up outside her apartment building, the engine purring to a stop.  Gold turned to look at her.

“Thanks,” she said.  “I - um - I appreciate it.”

“No matter.”

He was still looking at her, and the urge to kiss him was strong.  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to come upstairs, but she didn’t want to push it.

“I guess I’ll see you,” she said awkwardly, and opened the car door, almost bolting out into the night.

She watched him drive off again, sighing to herself as the car turned the corner and out of sight.  Her crush had developed into something all-consuming, and she told herself to get a grip.  Whether he wanted her or not (and she was convinced he did), he clearly had no intention of acting on it.  She couldn’t decide whether to be touched or irritated.

She stomped up the stairs to her apartment, flicking on the lights and enjoying the warmth as it seeped into her.  Hurrying to the kitchen, she squatted down beside a large cardboard box that sat there, making clicking noises with her tongue, and grinned to herself as something pushed one of the flaps upwards.  A small black kitten scrabbled at the cardboard, letting out a high-pitched mew, and she picked him up, rubbing her face against his and listening to him start to purr.  His brother and sister poked their heads out, letting out little squeaks of greeting, and Lacey smiled.

“Let’s see about supper, shall we?” she said.  “And I need to get you a basket tomorrow.  The tips should cover that as well as food for us all.”

The black kitten purred contentedly, and Lacey buried her nose in his soft fur.

* * *

If anyone had seen Mr Gold driving home, they would have thought him the picture of calm.  He drove at a relaxed pace, keeping his eyes on the road, his emotions boiling and screaming beneath the surface and making his skin itch.  He parked up on his driveway, walking sedately to the door, and let himself into the house, locking the door behind him and leaning back against it with a weary sigh, his nerves frazzled.  Lacey French was brave, intelligent, amusing, and surprisingly good company.  And far too young and beautiful for the likes of him.

If he was honest with himself, he had seen this coming, but from his side, not hers.  He had felt an urge to protect her ever since her father had made him that vile offer, and getting to know her in recent days had only made that urge stronger.  His desire to ensure her well-being had surprised and alarmed him, given his usual policy of shutting people out, and he wasn’t sure what it meant.  Her admitting to feeling some attraction to him only complicated matters, however shallow the desire.  He supposed he couldn’t read too much into her regard, given that it was only based on him behaving like a decent fucking human being for once.

He remembered how she had looked after he put the coat on her, the way her eyes darkened and the tip of her tongue swept across her lips, and he had wanted to kiss her so much it _burned_.  She had expected him to, and It would have been so easy to take her in his arms and press his mouth to hers, to take her to bed and lose himself in her for an hour or two, to pretend that he was something other than a creature of bitterness and solitude.  But she deserved better than him.  Better than most people in Storybrooke, if he was honest.  He pushed himself away from the door, walking slowly to the lounge.  He needed a bloody drink.

* * *

The rest of the week was so busy that Lacey didn’t see Gold, not even when he came in for his morning coffee.  Ashley, one of the maids, was having pregnancy troubles again, and Lacey offered to cover her morning shift at the diner, following it with a quick break to go home, feed and pet the kittens, and cram a Pop Tart into her mouth.  She then worked her usual evening diner shift, so in the end she worked a full sixteen hours.  She was exhausted by the end of it, falling into bed after feeding the kittens and sleeping with the three of them curled against her belly.

She did the same the next day, and the next, well aware that she was running herself into the ground, but she needed the money.  Graham had informed her that she would have to pay for the damage to her father’s van, which she was furious about, but he added that it was likely that she would only face a fine for the crime itself.  She was well aware that, worst case scenario, she could be facing a demand for two thousand dollars, but she hoped that the fact that it was a first offence would count in her favour.  Either way she would still have to find the cash to pay the fine, and the fact of her father’s betrayal still stung.  She had not spoken to him since, but watching him stomping around town on foot to make deliveries - the van was still being fixed - gave her some petty satisfaction.

The next night, she finished work at ten, and decided she needed a drink.  Her feet hurt, but then she was used to that, so she hurried home to feed and pet the cats and took a quick shower before pulling a black sheath dress on over tights and a pair of bright blue high heels.  She could fit in a couple of shots at _The Rabbit Hole_ , and if she was lucky she might find someone willing to play pool.

* * *

Gold had gone to _The Rabbit Hole_ earlier that evening, intending to chase up the rent that was due.  He had been unlucky the previous week, and had listened to the bartender babbling for five minutes before getting bored and telling him that he would be charging his usual late fees, and would be back the next week to collect in full.  Part of him was hoping they didn’t have the money, so he could take out his foul mood on someone and pretend it was justified.  It was a bad day for him, the worst possible, and the last thing he felt like doing was chasing down non-paying tenants.  His traditional way to get through the fourth of October was to lock his door, put on some music and drink whisky until oblivion claimed him.  Or until he threw up, which sometimes came first.

The club was reasonably busy when he entered, its customers skittering out of his way like deer from a wolf.  He ignored them, heading straight for the bar, where the bartender was eyeing him nervously and cleaning a glass with a cloth, turning it over and over in his hands.  Gold stepped up to the bar and folded his hands over his cane.

“I’m here for the rent,” he said, without any greeting.  The bartender swallowed.

“I - look, Mr Gold, I haven’t…”

“Where’s your boss?” interrupted Gold.

“Out of town,” said the man quickly.  “She - she didn’t leave any rent here with me.  I - I can try to get her on the phone…”

“Do that,” said Gold tersely.  “I have more important things to do this evening than wait around in this dump for the inevitable disappointment.”

“Really?”  The bartender let out a nervous laugh.  “That’s what most of the guys here...”  He cut off at Gold’s dark stare.  “Never mind.  Can I offer you a drink?  On the house.”

“Well, of course it’s on the house,” snapped Gold, as a bottle of whisky was placed on the bar.  “Your employer owes me, and until that debt is paid I’ll take what I fucking want.”

He snatched the bottle, tucking it under his arm, and picked up the glass that the bartender had set beside it.  The man was staring at him, wide-eyed, and he sighed to himself.  It was rare that he lost his temper, and this little matter really wasn’t worth getting upset about.  It wasn’t the bartender’s fault, after all.

“Make your call,” he said, more reasonably.  “I’ll be waiting.”

He went to sit in one of the booths off to the side, out of the way of most of the customers, where the shadow of one of the pillars partly fell across him.  Pouring himself a large measure of whisky, he took a swig, relishing the feel of it burning its way down his throat.  The bar seemed to be populated with young men desperate to convince the few women in there that they were worth attention, with varying degrees of success.  Lacey was not there, and he found himself wondering what she was doing.  He had not seen her all week, and he hoped she wasn’t sick.  For a brief, ridiculous moment he thought about paying her a visit, and took another large swallow of whisky to burn the notion from his brain.  The glass was almost empty, and he poured another.  Wouldn’t kill him to walk home for once.

* * *

Lacey found that the club was busier than usual, and she shouldered her way to the bar through small knots of men, ignoring all of them.  The bartender seemed out of sorts, dropping a glass and trying to give her rum instead of whisky.

“Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair and reaching for a fresh glass.  “Gold’s making me nervous.”

“Gold?”  Lacey wrinkled her brow.  “How come?”

“Sitting in the corner waiting for the rent to turn up,” he said.  “He’s been here ages, just drinking whisky and - and _staring_ at people.  I already told him the boss isn’t back until next week, but he won’t leave.”

Lacey glanced over her shoulder.  Gold was sitting at a table in the corner, half hidden by the shadows, only the light catching on his gold cufflinks and the thick ring he wore announcing his presence.  She turned back to the bartender.

“Twenty bucks says I can get him out of here,” she suggested, and the bartender nodded.

“Worth it.  Dude’s bad for business.  Everyone who owes him takes one look and goes out again.”

“Let’s see it then,” she said, and he sighed and dug in his pocket, pulling out two ten-dollar bills.  Lacey snagged them from his fingers and winked at him.

“Leave it to me.”

She picked up her glass of whisky, and wandered over to Gold’s table.  Her mouth flattened a little as she looked him over.  He was slumped in the booth, a glass in one hand, the cane by his side.  There was a bottle of whisky on the table in front of him, which was well on the way to being empty, and she wondered how much of it he had drunk.  She sat down on the bench next to him, and he cast a glance in her direction.

“Hey!” she said brightly, and he nodded, taking a drink.

“Miss French.”

“Oh, don’t tell me we have to go back to square one!” she sighed.  “It’s Lacey, remember?”

“I rem-remember.”

He set down the whisky glass, his hand shaking a little, and she leaned in, her eyes almost watering at the smell of his breath.

“Wow, you’re _steaming_ drunk!” she remarked, and he grunted, leaning back.

“Special occasion.”

“I bet.”

His eyes were closed, and she quickly took the bottle of whisky, hiding it behind her back.  He looked as though he was about to pass out.  Or throw up.  Neither of which she suspected he wanted to do in _the Rabbit Hole_ in front of a bunch of his tenants.

“I’m guessing this was more than a bad day at work, huh?” she said.

He didn’t respond.  Instinctively, she reached up, brushing his hair back from his face, and he let his head roll back with a sigh, leaning into her touch.  Lacey chewed at her lip, wondering what to do for the best.  Leaving him in the club in this state would be a bad move; he’d made a lot of enemies in the town, and if any of them realised he was vulnerable…  She made a decision, throwing back her shot and putting the half-empty bottle of whisky in her bag before shaking Gold’s shoulder and receiving a baleful glare in response.

“Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get you home.”

He curled his lip, growling something about more whisky.

“The bartender cut you off,” she lied.  “But you have booze at your place, right?”

“Gonna raise the rent on this dump,” he muttered.

“Uh-huh.  We can talk about that tomorrow.  Come on.”

She got to her feet, taking his hands and pulling him up.  He swayed a little, and she grasped his cane, pushing it into his hand to help his balance.  Gold seemed to revive, raising his head and glaring around himself, and so she took his arm on the other side.

“Okay, just keep walking,” she said quietly, and pulled him with her.

He stumbled a little, but she managed to get him out of the bar and into the street with no problem.  The shock of the cold air seemed to hit him, making him stumble even more, and they almost fell as she tried to hold him up.  Lacey made a decision.

“This way,” she said, and steered him down the street towards her own apartment.

Getting him up the stairs was a nightmare, and he bounced off the walls as he went, making her bite back her giggles.  She had been in similar states herself, of course, but she had never expected to see him like this.  It made him seem more human.  Vulnerable.  Fallible.  It also made her want to take care of him, which was a highly unfamiliar feeling.

“Where are we?” he muttered, as she opened the door, and she turned to grin at him.

“My place,” she said.  “There’s no way I could have gotten you home to yours.  Come on in.”

He had to use both his cane and the wall to keep his balance, and after locking the door behind them she took his arm again, pulling him into her bedroom.  She supposed she could have let him sleep on the couch, but honestly the bed was easier to get him onto, and so she flicked on the light and tugged his overcoat from his shoulders.  He growled under his breath as she pulled it off, and so she turned him until his back was to the bed and unbuttoned his jacket.  That came off next, and he was beginning to look a little confused at being undressed by her, so she gave him a push, smirking as he fell backwards across the mattress.  The low grunt that came from him on impact reminded her that she found him very attractive, but she squashed the feeling.  Even if he had been as interested in her as she was in him, there was no way he was in any fit state to decide that he wanted to do something about it.

His lower legs were hanging over the side of the bed, and she bent to pick them up, tugging at them to pull him straight.  He murmured something, and she shook her head and unlaced his shoes, taking them off and setting them carefully beneath the dresser.  When she straightened up he was lying very still with his eyes closed, his hands on his belly.  She bent close to him, stroking stray hairs from his forehead.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmured.

“Putting you to bed,” she said.  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna jump you.  I’m guessing you couldn’t get it up if I paid you to, anyway.”

The noise he made was a mix of amusement and indignation.  She unfastened the knot of his tie, pulling the length of silk open and undoing the top three buttons of his shirt.  Gold sighed, swallowing hard, and she felt an urge to kiss him.

“By the way, I adopted three kittens,” she said.  “That’s cool, right?”

“Mmph.”

Lacey grinned, stroking his hair, and jumped as his eyes opened.

“Lacey,” he whispered.  “Lovely Lacey.  Sweet, lovely Lacey.”

“Wow, you really _are_ drunk,” she remarked, and jerked in surprise as he reached up with a hand, gently cupping her cheek.

“Beautiful,” he said softly.  “So beautiful.”

“Yeah, and sober, thanks to you,” she said.  “How many have you had?”

He shook his head, the line between his brows deepening.

“Don’t know.  Don’t care.”

“Special super-shitty occasion?” she asked, and he screwed up his face.

“Anniversary.”

“Oh.”  She sat up, letting her hands drop to her lap.  “Okay.”

His hand had fallen away from her face when she moved, and he ran it over his face with a sigh.

“Sorry,” he whispered.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.  All my fault.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” she said, wondering what the hell he was talking about.   _Anniversary.  Was he married, then?  Is there a bloody dead wife I didn’t know about?  Because that would explain a_ hell _of a lot._

His eyes had closed again, and she pushed to her feet, reaching for the fleece blanket she kept at the end of the bed and throwing it over him.

“Get some sleep, Gold,” she said, and flicked off the light.

* * *

Gold found that waking up was a slow and painful process.  For a start, the bed felt wrong, the pillows softer than he was used to, the pillowcases thinner.  They also smelt wrong, of a light, flowery perfume, tea rose and vanilla and something indescribably feminine that made his cock twitch in its usual early morning state of interest.  There was an unfamiliar weight on his chest, and a low, buzzing noise going through him, which his mind was trying and failing to interpret.  His head was thumping, and he really didn’t want to open his eyes, but he supposed that he ought to.  He had a vague memory of walking Lacey French home, and he hoped to God he hadn’t done anything that he couldn’t take back.

Opening his eyes a crack, he found himself face to face with two kittens, perched in the middle of his chest.  He flicked his eyelids open all the way, meeting two pairs of jade green eyes.  The kittens blinked slowly at him, one by one, purring contentedly.  One was white with large black patches on its head and back, the other a calico with a pink nose.  She blinked again, stretching a white paw out towards his face, and instinctively he reached up to scratch her ears, making her butt her head against his fingers.  He could see that it was morning, light filtering in through the curtains.  Lacey’s bed.  This was Lacey’s house, and Lacey’s bed.  His mind scrambled frantically for a moment as he tried unsuccessfully to recall what had happened after they got here, but he was still fully clothed, and she wasn’t naked beside him, so that at least was something.

He picked up the kittens, causing tiny mews of protest before he set them on the blanket to the side of him, and sat up, grimacing as his headache pounded hard behind his eyes.  Bending down to pick up his shoes only made things worse, but he managed to put them on and tie the laces without his head exploding.  She had draped his tie over the back of the dresser chair, and he buttoned his shirt and knotted the tie around his neck.  One glance in the mirror told him all he needed to know; he had a day’s growth of stubble, his eyes bloodshot and baggy, his face haggard.  It was the same every fourth of October, without fail.  Except usually he kept his drunken breakdown in the privacy of his own home.

He sighed to himself, giving his reflection a sneering glance.  No one in Storybrooke needed to know what a state he’d been in, and if he could get home, shower and shave, they would never find out.  He straightened his cuffs, wondering where the hell his jacket was.  There was a _prrp_ from behind him, and he turned to see the black and white kitten, watching him curiously with its tail up and ears forward.  Gold petted it, smiling a little as it rubbed its head against his fingers.  After a moment it seemed to tire, sitting down on its rump and yawning, and flopped onto its side as he scratched its ears.

Gold left the kittens sleeping, running a hand through messy hair as he went out of the room.  The door had been slightly open, which was no doubt how the kittens had gotten inside in the first place, and he could smell coffee and hear noises coming from off to the right, where he presumed the kitchen was.  He went to the bathroom first, and after washing his hands and ignoring his reflection in the mirror, he followed the scent of fresh coffee to its source.

Lacey was standing at the kitchen counter, already dressed in opaque tights and a tight purple dress beneath an oversized, off-the-shoulder black sweater.  She was wearing a pair of black sheepskin boots on her feet, her hair tied up in a messy bun on her head, and a small black kitten was nestled on her shoulder, which made Gold blink in confusion.   _How many of those things are there?_

Lacey turned, a mug of coffee in her hand and a grin on her face.

“Morning, you drunken bastard,” she said cheerfully, and he sighed.

“Good morning,” he said levelly, and gestured at the kitten.  “I don’t believe we had a discussion about pets in this apartment, Miss French.”

“Oh, we did,” she said, and offered him the coffee.  “You just don’t remember because you were drunk, but you thought me keeping three kittens here was a _fantastic_ idea.”

“Hmm.”  He eyed her, amused.  “No doubt you recorded this important conversation with your landlord for evidence?”

Lacey pulled a face.

“Well, I _could_ have done that,” she agreed.  “But then I’d have a recording of you out of your fucking face on whisky.  Would you prefer to just take my word for it and let me keep the cats?”

Gold took the coffee with a sigh, lowering himself onto one of the chairs.

“I suspect a case could be made,” he allowed.  “Where did you get them?”

Lacey poured another cup of coffee, sitting opposite him.  The black kitten had curled against her neck, his eyes closed.

“Found them abandoned in an old cardboard box,” she said.  “I took them to the animal shelter.  They needed shots and stuff, and Minerva had an infection in her foot which had to be treated, but they’re gonna be okay.”

“Minerva?”

“The calico,” she said.  “The black and white one’s Hagrid, and this little fella’s Severus.  Harry Potter, y’know?”

“Ah.”  He turned the coffee cup around on the tabletop, his hands shaking a little.  “So,” he said.  “That’s what was in the box.  And presumably what you spent the rent money on.  You could have just told me, you know.”

“Yeah.”  She looked a little self-conscious.  “I - I thought you might not let me keep them.  It says no pets in the rental agreement.”

“I like cats,” he said.  “And I see no problem with you having them here, as long as you pay for any damage they cause.”

“Right.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “I’m paying for damage a lot these days, so sure.”

There was silence for a moment, and he took a sip of the coffee.  It was hot and strong, bitter on his tongue.  Lacey cupped hers in her hands, steam rising from the mug.

“You look like shit,” she said, not unkindly.  “How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed, mostly,” he admitted, and she grinned.

“I’ve been in worse states,” she said.  “I couldn’t get you all the way back to your place.  Hope you don’t mind.”

“On the contrary, I’m very grateful,” he said.  “I was foolish to stay there.  You could have left me in that dive of a club at the mercy of some of my most unreliable tenants.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to see you getting fished out of the docks,” she said, and took another sip of coffee.  “Must have been a hell of a day.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, and she put her head to the side.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he said abruptly.  “Thank you, it’s - it’s private.”

“Oh.  Sure, no problem.”

She sat back, the cat making a tiny noise of protest at being disturbed, and Gold concentrated on his coffee.  Lacey shifted in her chair, as if she were uncomfortable, and he grimaced.   _He’d_ made her uncomfortable, getting drunk and probably crying on her shoulder before taking up her time and her bedroom sleeping off his pathetic inebriated pity-party.  Oh God, where had _she_ slept?

“I was - I was in your bed,” he said, looking up, and she shrugged, glancing away, hiding her brilliant blue eyes.

“Yeah,” she said casually.  “I took the couch.  Thought it was easier.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.  You want breakfast?  There might be some eggs.”

His stomach protested at the very idea.

“No, thank you.”

He took another gulp of coffee, scalding his throat.  She sat back, hugging the coffee to her chest, and he sighed, drinking more of the coffee.  Time to go.  Past time to go.

“You know,” she said, a little hesitantly.  “If you ever wanted someone to vent to, I'd be happy to listen.  I’ll keep your secrets.  Sometimes it’s good to let it out.”

His mouth twisted, dark thoughts needling him, begging for attention.

“I don’t think so,” he said quietly, and she shrugged.

“No big deal, but the offer stands,” she said.

“I have no desire to bore you with my tales of woe, Miss French.”

“ _Lacey_ ,” she said patiently.  “And who says I’d be bored?  I bet you’ve done some _really_ interesting stuff in your time, huh?  All kinds of skeletons in the closet, am I right?”

She was grinning at him, as though his past mistakes were something amusing, and he could feel himself getting annoyed.

“My past is my business,” he said shortly, and she shrugged.

“I know,” she said.  “I just think if you have problems, it can help to get another opinion.  Different life experience, you know?”

“Well, when I want to know the best way to serve a burger and fries, I’ll ask,” he snapped, and she leaned back, stung.

“I was only trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

She scowled a little.

“Well, maybe you didn’t have to,” she said.  “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“Maybe it’s none of your business,” he said coldly, and she glared at him.

“Fine!”

She pushed to her feet, one hand keeping the kitten in place, and he almost groaned to himself, his emotions a tangle of shame, annoyance and misery.  A moment later he was blinded by a covering of heavy wool, his jacket and overcoat thrown over him.

“Let yourself out, Gold,” she said, and stomped off again.

He heard the slam of her bedroom door, and growled under his breath.   _Fantastic.  Absolutely fucking fantastic._


	6. Rain Comes Tearing Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Leroy the surname Pitman, because the dwarfs are miners :)

Gold drained his coffee, standing up and pulling on his jacket and overcoat, his mouth twisting at the pounding in his head, a dull throb behind his eyes.  He knew he was in the wrong, and that he needed to apologise, but the certainty that he would only make things worse in his current state held him back.  Calling himself every name for idiot he could think of, he stomped down the corridor of the apartment, hesitating outside her bedroom door.  He lifted a hand, licking his lips almost nervously before knocking.

“Lacey?” he ventured.

“Go away, Gold!”

She sounded upset, and he supposed he couldn’t blame her.  Sighing, he let himself out, closing the door behind him and making his way down the stairs.  She had looked after him, had taken him in and given him her bed to sleep it off, had made him coffee and greeted him with a smile and tried to offer comfort where none could be found, and he had treated her like garbage.  Why the hell did he do that to anyone who tried to reach out?  Why was his first instinct to hurt, to wound?

 _Because that’s who you are,_ a snide voice whispered inside his head.   _That’s who you’ll always be._

Scowling, he left the building, walking out into the cold air of a crisp fall morning.  A trashcan stood beside the streetlight, its shadowed opening like a laughing mouth, and in a fit of pique he hefted his cane and whacked it with the handle a couple of times.  Raising his head, his jaw clenched and breath hissing over his teeth, he saw Leroy Pitman watching him.  Leroy’s eyes flicked up to Lacey’s window, back to Gold, and widened.  Gold felt himself snarl, and he grounded the cane, storming off down the street as fast as his bad leg would carry him.

* * *

Lacey spent her morning playing with the kittens, which made her feel a lot better after Gold’s snappish reaction to what she thought were perfectly reasonable offers of help.  She was used to guys being asshats, of course, but she hadn’t expected it from him, for some reason, which only made it hurt more.  She wondered what it was that had him so upset and lashing out, and figured she would probably never know.  Perhaps there was a reason that he was always alone, not just that he preferred it that way.  Perhaps he had loved and lost, and was avoiding any possibility of that happening again.  Or perhaps he was just an arsehole.  There was certainly that possibility.

She didn’t have to cover Ashley’s shift that day, which she was relieved about, and so she went to the diner after the lunchtime rush to start the afternoon and evening waitressing shift.  The diner was unusually quiet until five o’clock, whereupon the Friday night chicken and rib special had what felt like most of Storybrooke clamouring for her attention.  It wasn’t until eight-thirty that things quietened down, and she could switch from serving food to serving drinks, as the dinner customers finished up and went home.  Her feet were killing her, but at least the end was in sight, and a busy day meant lots of tips.  The fact that most of them would have to go towards paying for the damage to her father’s van was galling.  By nine the diner was pleasantly quiet, and she smiled at Leroy as he hauled himself onto a stool by the bar.

“Beer and a whisky chaser, right?” she said.

“How’d you guess?”

He grinned at her, and she pulled a beer for him and set it on the bar, condensation running down the sides of the glass.  Leroy took a drink, foam sticking to his beard, and smacked his lips.

“I saw Gold leaving your house this morning,” he said carefully.  “Something you want to tell me?”

Lacey snorted.  “You mean am I banging him?  You _have_ to be kidding me.”

Leroy spread his hands, looking apologetic.

“Hey, I thought I’d ask,” he said.  “He was sure frustrated about something.  Took it out on a trashcan.”

She sniffed, wiping down the bar.

“Man, he wouldn’t fucking lower himself,” she said bitterly.  “I’m just a slutty waitress, right?”

“He _said_ that?”  Leroy’s thick eyebrows drew down, and she sighed.

“Not exactly,” she amended.  “He didn’t say slutty, anyway.”

“Huh.”  Leroy picked up his beer.  “Want me to call him out?”

Lacey giggled.  “Call him _out_?” she asked, amused.  “What, are you gonna offer pistols at dawn, or something?”

Leroy pulled a face.

“I was thinking more like sarcasm and some glaring,” he said, and she laughed harder.

“Way to defend my honour,” she said, and he grinned.

“Look, if you really want, I can punch him in the face, say it was an accident.”

“He’d kick your ass,” she said dryly.  “And it’s cool, I can handle it.  He’s a guy, ergo he’s a prick.  Not like I didn’t already know the drill.  They’re all pricks.”

He grunted, and she winked at him.

“Present company excepted, of course.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He winked back, and took another drink.  A dark shadow loomed at the diner door, and Lacey sighed as she recognised the silhouette.

“Speak of the devil,” she remarked.

Leroy glanced over his shoulder as Gold pushed open the door, and Lacey squared her jaw, wiping at the bar with a little too much force as he stepped up in front of her.  He had showered and shaved, and was looking as immaculate as ever, his shirt a deep blue, secured with a gold tie pin.  His face still looked drawn, though, his eyes tired.

“Lacey,” he said, and she glared at him.

“What can I get you, Mr Gold?” she asked, in a clipped voice.

“I don’t want a drink,” he said.  “I came to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well I’m working right now,” she said, turning away to pour a measure of whisky for Leroy.

“Look, I realise I wasn’t the most pleasant person this morning…”

“You were a total dick.”

“...but I wanted to speak to you,” he went on.  “I thought this might be a quieter time in which to do it.”

He gave Leroy a flat stare then, clearly wanting him to make himself scarce.  Leroy took a slow sip of his beer, not dropping his eyes, and Gold’s eyebrows drew down.

“Like I said, I’m working,” said Lacey.  “So if you’re not gonna buy a drink, you’re taking up time I could use to make tips, okay?”

Gold sighed.

“Fine,” he said wearily.  “I’ll have a beer.”

“Great.  Take a seat, I’ll bring it over.”

She set the whisky down in front of Leroy, who was glaring at Gold.  Gold scowled at him.

“Is there a problem, Mr Pitman?” he said waspishly.

“Yeah.”  Leroy downed the rest of his beer.  “I want to know why you’re being a jerk to Lacey.”

“My interactions with Miss French are none of your business,” said Gold.

“Well, maybe it’s my business that you’re being a fucking ass to her!”

“Do you want me to double your rent?” snapped Gold.

“Leave him alone!”  Lacey put her hands on her hips, and Gold turned back to her.

“I came over to apologise to you,” he said coldly.  “Not to justify my actions to every resident of Storybrooke.”

“And you think the best way to apologise is to threaten my friends?” she demanded.  “You’re an asshole!”

“Got that right.”  Leroy downed his whisky, and Gold glared at him.

“Well, I suppose I couldn’t expect any meaningful contribution from the town drunk,” he said nastily, and Lacey leaned on the bar, her jaw pushing forward in outrage.

“Really?” she said sarcastically.  “You’re going to play that card when I saw you out of your fucking face last night?  Add ‘hypocrite’ to ‘asshole’!”

Gold sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“Lacey…”

“Oh, get out of here!” she snapped.  “I don’t feel like serving you tonight, okay?  And given that’s all I’m good for, according to you, I’d say we’ve hit a new low.”

“When did I say that?” he demanded.  “I never said that!”

“You said my opinions weren’t worth anything beyond how to serve a burger and fries,” she reminded him.  “So yeah, you did say that.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again, as though he had intended to make a stinging retort and then thought better of it.

“Fine,” he said coldly.  “Have a pleasant evening, Miss French.”

He gave her a tiny, mocking bow, and she watched as he stalked back out again, her heart thumping with indignation.

“So is Gold getting his ass handed to him gonna be a regular thing?” asked Leroy.  “Because you could probably sell tickets.”

She sighed, turning back to him.

“Guess not,” she said gloomily.  “He probably won’t even speak to me now.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Lacey hesitated, unsure how open to be about her feelings towards Gold.  She supposed it was difficult to decide when she hadn’t fully worked out what those were for herself, so she settled for something more neutral than the fact that she thought way too much about getting him naked.

“He’s not so bad, most of the time,” she said.  “He’s fair, at least.  If he says he’ll do something, he does it.”

Leroy grunted, and pushed the beer glass towards her.

“Give me another, sister,” he said.  “If you’re gonna say nice things about Gold, I think I need to be drunker.”

* * *

Gold made his way back down the street in the foulest of moods, which wasn’t helped by the fact that it had started to rain, large fat drops pattering against his face.  He knew he was in the wrong; he had acted like an idiot that morning, and being chewed out by Lacey for making threats was a crappy bonus layer to add to the shit sandwich this day had been.  He wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been given a parking ticket, the way things were going.

By the time he reached the car, he had calmed down and started to think about things rationally.  He still hadn’t apologised, or properly thanked her for taking care of him in a vulnerable state.  He had the feeling that flowers wouldn’t be appreciated, given who ran the florist, and he couldn’t trust himself to deal with her odious father without giving him a few well-deserved whacks with the cane, none of which would help Lacey.  So he had to think of something else to act as both a thank you and an apology.  Something close to her heart.

* * *

Lacey eventually left Granny’s at just after eleven, her feet almost too painful to walk.  If it hadn’t been cold and pouring with rain, she would have taken off her shoes.  As it was, she hobbled across the road to her apartment, her jacket pulled over her head to try to shield her from the worst of the downpour.  Swearing under her breath, she scrabbled in her purse for her keys.

“Lacey.”

She yelped in surprise, turning with the keys held out like a weapon, and sagged with relief as she realised it was Gold.  He was standing with a large plastic bag in one hand and his cane in the other, the rain flattening his hair and bouncing on the shoulders of his overcoat.  She felt her mouth thin.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“To make the apology I should have made earlier,” he said quietly, and she sighed.

“Gold, I just got off work, and I’m bloody exhausted,” she said.  “Can’t it wait until morning?”

He hesitated, his mouth open, then nodded, taking a step back.

“Of course,” he said.  “I wasn’t thinking.  Forgive me, I know it’s late.”

He bowed his head a little, taking another step back, and turned on his heel to go.  Raindrops coursed over her cheeks as she watched him, running into her eyes and making them sting a little, and Lacey sighed.

“Wait,” she said wearily, and he turned to face her.  “You may as well come in for five minutes, I guess.”

She opened the door, not waiting to see if he was following, but heard it close, and then the sound of his cane and his footsteps on the stairs behind her.  She unlocked the door to her apartment at the top of the stairs, glancing over her shoulder.  Gold was standing behind her, looking tired and somehow beaten, and she felt a stab of sympathy for him.  Starting the day with a hangover and ending it with an argument probably wasn’t what he had wanted for himself.  Telling herself firmly that he only had himself to blame for both of those things, she pushed open the door and held it open for him to enter after her, before locking it behind them.

“Have a seat,” she said, waving a hand towards the lounge.

He wandered off, cane tapping on the floor and the mysterious plastic bag crackling in his hand, and she shrugged off her coat.  She hung it up, kicking off her shoes and heaving a sigh of relief as she wriggled her toes in their tights.  She really wanted to take off the tights and feel the cold floor beneath her feet, but she wasn’t about to do that with him there.  She hurried through, noting that he was standing in the middle of the lounge and looking around awkwardly.  Two of the three kittens had already wandered up to him, crying for food, with the third running towards Lacey with his tail in the air.

“You can sit down,” she called, going through to the kitchen.  “I just have to feed the cats.”

He didn’t respond, and the other two kittens had joined her, so she portioned out food into three plastic bowls and topped off their water.  The kittens climbed over one another in their excitement almost before she put the bowls down, and she grinned and scratched their ears as they began to eat.

Sighing, she straightened up, stretching to ease the tension in her back, and reached into the cupboard for two mismatched glasses and the half bottle of whisky she had taken from _The Rabbit Hole_.  Gold looked up as she went back into the lounge, his cane leaning against the couch to his side and his elbows resting on his knees.  She put the glasses on the coffee table with a dull clunk and sat down next to him.

“Whisky?” she asked.  “I’m having one.”

“I shouldn’t,” he admitted.  “But I will.”

“That’s the spirit.”

She opened it up, pouring two large measures and handing one to him.  Gold took it, fingers curling around the glass and drawing it to him.  She took a sip of her own, leaning back against the cushions with a sigh, and he glanced across at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I truly am.  You were very kind, bringing me here and letting me sleep it off, and I was, to use your phrase, a total dick.”

“Yeah, you were,” she agreed.

“You were nothing but good to me,” he went on.  “And I ruined your own night out with my - my drunken meltdown.  And then the next day I behaved appallingly.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I have no excuses,” he added.  “But I’m sorry, Lacey.  I’m really sorry.  Can you forgive me?”

She eyed him, a wry twist to her mouth.  He looked penitent enough, she supposed, and he had at least made the effort to come over and apologise, and admit he was in the wrong.  That was more than most of the guys in town did, as far as she was aware.

“Okay, fine,” she said carelessly.  “Try not to act like an arse in future, okay?”

Gold smirked.

“You’re asking me to go against my nature?” he said dryly, and took a sip of whisky.

“No, I’ve accepted you’re always gonna _be_ an arse,” she said.  “Just be less - demonstrative.”

He chuckled at that.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Hmm.”

She took another drink, enjoying the smooth fire of the whisky.  It was better stuff than she ever bought for herself, and she suspected it was the best the club had to offer.  She wondered what he drank at home.  Single malt, aged in sherry casks for more years than she’d been alive, probably.  Bottled on Burns’ Night and finished with the limpid tears of a Highland stag, or some other shit.  She snickered at the thought, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I - um - I brought you something, by the way,” he said.  “Sort of a peace offering.”

She was intrigued to see that he looked a little unsure of himself.

“What is it?” she asked, and he picked up the plastic bag he had been carrying, handing it over to her.

Lacey put down her glass, looking inside.  She shot him an amused look as she saw brightly-coloured balls and fluffy animals.

“Cat toys?” she said.  “Where the hell did you get a bunch of cat toys at eleven at night?”

“Well, the pet store is one of my properties,” he said.  “I was able to persuade the business owner to let me in for a little after-hours browsing.”

“You made the poor guy go out at night so you could buy me some cat toys?” she asked flatly.  “You’re gonna have to be serving up an apology to _him_ if you’re not careful.”

“He was paid for his time,” said Gold.  “Do you like them or not?”

She grinned at him, reaching into the bag and plucking out a purple and yellow plastic ball with a bell inside.  She rolled it towards the kitchen, the bell jingling as it went, and two seconds later Minerva pounced on it, her brothers piling in behind.  Lacey giggled, and tossed over what looked like a plucked chicken made of plush felt with feathers on its head.  The cats were soon play-fighting amongst themselves, swiping at the toys with their paws and pouncing on swishing tails.

“Well, the contents of this bag should keep them amused while I’m waiting tables,” she said, and grinned at him.  “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

He seemed to relax a little now that she had accepted his apology, the heavy atmosphere between them lifting, and he leaned back against the cushions, sipping his whisky.  After a moment Lacey swung herself around, stretching her legs across his knees, and Gold looked at them as though they were live snakes.

“Sorry, I’ve been on my feet all bloody week,” she said.  “Takes a toll after awhile, you know?”

“I imagine it does.”

He set his glass on the table, taking a foot in one hand, and her eyes widened.

“Didn’t you just hear me say I’d been on them all day?  They must stink!”

“I wasn’t planning on sucking your toes,” he said dryly, and she snickered.

“Good.  You’d probably die, and I’m too tired to lug a body downstairs and toss it into the street.”

“You wouldn’t even call the morgue?”  He tutted.  “Remind me not to die in your presence.”

She opened her mouth to say that she’d rather he didn’t anyway, but he had started to rub at her foot with the pad of his thumb, and she closed her eyes, biting back a moan of pleasure as his touch soothed tired muscles and tight tendons.  Lacey settled back, letting out a long sigh as he rubbed in slow circles.

“God, that’s good!” she moaned.  “You should go door to door and do that.  People would pay, I’m telling you.”

“The same people who are constantly late with their rent, you mean?” he said dryly.  “Forgive me if I don’t take you up on that suggestion.”

“Well, if you just want to do it for me, that’s cool,” she said.  “You can be my personal masseuse.”

She flicked her eyes open, and he was watching her, his gaze intense.

“What’s the _quid pro quo?_ ” he asked softly.  “You can’t have something for nothing, you know.”

Her heart thumped, her breath quickening a little, and she wondered if he knew what he was doing to her.  The tiny smile, the gleam in his eyes, suggested that he did, but she wasn’t certain.

“I thought - I thought maybe it could be a down payment towards next time you’re an arse to me or to someone I like,” she suggested.  “One unreasonable refusal to grant a rent extension equals one foot rub, something like that.”

“That seems heavily weighted against me,” he said.  “Given that our views of what’s reasonable differ in the extreme.”

“Yeah, I’m probably doing myself out of foot rubs, huh?” she said.  “Okay, one foot rub per refusal of a rent extension, period.”

“Makes me curious as to what you’d request in exchange for an eviction notice,” he remarked.

“Agree not to evict someone, and I give _you_ a foot rub,” she said, and he chuckled.

“I should get out of here before I agree to halve someone’s rent in exchange for a back massage, or something,” he said, and she grinned.

“Yeah, it could be mine!”

He shot her a look, patting her legs, and she promptly lifted them off him and swung them around to stand up.  Gold threw back the rest of his whisky, getting to his feet and straightening his cuffs.

“Thank you for the drink,” he said.  “And for accepting both my apology and the cat toys.”

“No problem.”  She bounced on her toes.  “You’re really not so bad when you forget to be an asshat.”

“I’ll see if I can have that put on my tombstone,” he said dryly, and she giggled.

“If not I’ll write it on with lipstick,” she assured him.

He grinned at her, but he was looking thoughtful, his eyes flicking away and then back to her before skittering off again.  His hands flexed on the handle of his cane, and he licked his lips.

“Would you - would you have dinner with me?” he asked suddenly.  “I eat alone every evening, and - and it might be nice to cook for someone, for a change.”

“Oh.”  Well, she hadn’t expected that.  “Oh, I - yeah, I guess so.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Um…”

She thought hard.  She had the early shift, so that could work out.  Was this a date?  Was he asking her on a date?

“It won’t be a late night,” he added.  “I could have you home by ten, if you have to work the next day.  Or - or earlier, if you like.”

Maybe not a date, then.  Or if it was, he was giving her an out.

“Okay,” she said.  “Okay, cool.”

“Shall we say seven-thirty?” he suggested, and she nodded.

“Seven-thirty’s fine.”

“Good.”

He seemed almost hesitant, now she had agreed.   _Probably wondering why the hell he made the offer in the first place._

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, and he smiled.

“Yes.”  He nodded to her, gripping the cane tightly.  “Goodnight, Lacey.”


	7. The Loneliness We Cling To

Lacey found that she was actually nervous about her approaching date, if indeed that was what it was.  She got off her shift at around two, which left her approximately five hours to freak out before she had to leave the house.  She tried to fill her time with pulling every outfit she possessed out of her wardrobe and having loud conversations with herself about how shitty her taste was and why she couldn’t dress like a normal person.  After she had sat in a pile of discarded tops and skirts and tiny dresses, feeling despondent and doubting the sense of ever having agreed to this stupid idea, she played with the kittens to soothe her nerves.  It was either that or have a drink, and she figured that turning up on Gold’s doorstep stinking of whisky wouldn’t be an auspicious start to the evening.

Petting and tickling three adorable balls of fur was exactly what she needed, and by the time six p.m. rolled around she was calmer.  She took a shower, went through her outfits again and picked the one that she thought made her look least like a streetwalker.  The skirt was A-line and black.  Admittedly short, but then none of her skirts went past mid-thigh.  The blouse was the nicest she owned, deep red chiffon with black flowers covering it and little cap sleeves.  She left the top two buttons undone, the collar lying softly to the sides, and swept her hair up on top of her head, twisting it into a knot and securing it with pins.  Silver earrings finished off the look, and she pouted at herself in the mirror, red lips only a little brighter than the blouse.

She smoothed the skirt over her hips, sighing.  It would do.  She had bought some condoms from the pharmacy, just in case, and they were tucked in her bag.  Perhaps he wouldn’t want to do that, though.  Perhaps he wouldn’t even want to kiss her, in which case she would eat his food and drink his wine and probably slink back to her house more confused than she already was.  Whatever happened, at least she was prepared.

She petted the cats, hanging one of the toys Gold had bought from the kitchen door handle. The toy was a stuffed fabric star with a smiling face, bells hanging from ribbons attached to its points to jingle invitingly.  It was on a thick elastic string, so the first kitten to pounce on it pulled it to the floor and it bounced back up again, bells tinkling merrily.  Severus and Hagrid leapt on it with glee, and she smiled as she watched them.

“Should keep you guys amused, huh?” she said.  “You be good, okay?  Momma has a date with the nice man who bought you all that stuff.  With any luck she’ll be home late tonight.”

The kittens ignored her, jumping up and swiping at the stuffed toy, and she straightened up with a sigh.

“Telling the cats about your non-existent sex life,” she said to herself.  “You’re losing it, Lacey.  One crazy cat lady, coming up.”

She shrugged on her jacket, pulling it tight and cinching the belt around her waist.  At least it wasn’t raining, but it was still cold outside, and she wavered for a moment before winding a scarf around her neck and pulling on gloves.  Once she was out and walking, she wished she had also put on a hat, but the thought of pulling it off and her hair falling in her face had stopped her.  Her heels clicked as she walked, the sidewalks freezing cold through her thin soles, and she dug her hands in her pockets, tucking her chin into the scarf.  She wondered what Gold would cook, and whether he would expect her to bring something.   _Shit, don’t people take wine to these things?  Was I supposed to get wine?_

She stopped, glancing around herself.  There was time to go and get wine, of course, but she couldn’t afford anything more than the cheapest bottle, and she suspected he only drank the good stuff.  Indecision made her more nervous, but eventually she told herself that _he_ had invited _her_ for dinner, not the other way around, and if he wanted wine he could get it himself.  Nodding to herself, she hurried on.

The pink house looked somewhat intimidating in the dark of the evening, and she shivered a little, ducking her head as she trotted up the path past the squat shapes of the bushes.  There was a lamp on the porch, and warm light spilling through the stained glass panels of the front door, and she hesitated for a moment before knocking.

Gold answered the door in his shirtsleeves, his tie on and a dishtowel tucked in his belt.  A wonderfully savoury smell swept out to wrap around her, and Gold’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Lacey,” he said softly.  “Come on in, you look cold.”

“Freezing my ass off,” she said bluntly, and stomped inside, shivering as the warmth hit her.  Gold stepped behind her to take her coat, fingers brushing the skin of her arms as he drew it down, and she shivered again.

“Go through to the lounge,” he said.  “I lit a fire, it should warm you up.  Can I get you a drink?”

“That would be great.”

She walked through to the lounge, unwinding the scarf and tugging off the gloves before dropping them onto the coffee table.  The fire was crackling away, filling the room with a pleasant heat, and she could smell something in the air, like pine resin.  Cut logs sat in a wicker basket by the fire, and she wondered if the scent came from there, or from the large candles burning in holders on the mantelpiece.  The sound of footsteps made her turn, and Gold entered the room, a glass of red wine in his hands.  He held it out to her.

“Thanks,” she said.  “I - I wasn’t sure if I should bring something…”

“No, I have everything under control,” he said.  “You only needed to bring yourself.”

She took the glass in her hands, rolling it between her fingers and feeling the cool hardness of it.  The wine sloshed, a rich and heady scent drifting into her nose, and she looked up at him.

“Never been asked to dinner before,” she admitted.  “Not too sure on the etiquette.  Someone bought me nachos once, but I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

Gold smiled.  “No nachos tonight,” he confirmed.  “I’ll go and put the finishing touches to the first course.  It should only be a couple of minutes.”

She watched him go, and took a sip of her wine.  It tasted good, and she was relieved that she hadn’t been expected to bring any.  Her nerves were bad enough as it was.  The room seemed too quiet without him; the clock ticked on the wall, marking the time, and the fire crackled and snapped behind her.  The scent of frying garlic wafted through the door, and Lacey followed the smell, carrying her wine.

Gold looked around as she entered the kitchen, and she glanced at the table, which was set with two places, simple white plates with cutlery and a bowl of sliced crusty bread.  She felt a surge of relief; she had expected to be eating in the dining room, and while it would have been interesting to sit at an antique table and eat off good china with a silver spoon or something, the idea of sitting at his kitchen table helped her to relax.  The food didn’t look too fancy either: large prawns were sizzling with sliced garlic in some sort of oil in a little pan.  She had been worried he was going to cook something weird that she couldn’t pronounce and didn’t know how to eat.  She sniffed at the fragrant air.

“Can I smell lamb?”

“In the oven,” he confirmed.  “We’ll eat it later.”

“Everything smells so good,” she said.  “I’m guessing this is gonna be way better than what I usually dish up on a weekend.”

“Take a seat,” said Gold.  “I’ll put the pan on the trivet and we can dig in.”

There was a stone trivet sitting in the middle of the table next to the bowl of bread, and he took the pan off the heat, setting it down as Lacey took a seat.  The food smelt wonderful, earthy and fragrant with a heat that tickled at her nostrils.  The oil was the colour of sun-kissed bricks, coating the plump, pink flesh of the prawns.  Golden slices of fried garlic and ruby-red flakes of dried chilli floated in the oil like tiny treasures.  Lacey watched as Gold took a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil, scooping up pieces of garlic along with it.

“Help yourself,” he said.  “Don’t worry if you drip on the table.”

“What’s the oil?” she asked curiously.  “I’ve never seen it that colour.”

“Oh, it’s just olive oil,” he said.  “The colour comes from paprika.  It’s a little spicy with the chilli, but it’s good, I promise.”

She watched him snag a prawn with his fork, popping it into his mouth, and she took up a piece of bread and followed his lead, dipping it into the oil and scooping one of the prawns onto it.  The taste was delicious: sweet, juicy prawn and the sticky, caramelised flavour of the fried garlic, the earthy, almost smoky taste of the paprika at the back of her throat, and then the mellow heat of the chilli flakes.  She murmured contentedly, and Gold grinned.

“Good?” he asked.

“ _So_ good.”

His grin widened, and they ate in silence for a moment, taking it in turns to dip pieces of bread into the oil and chew on prawns and fried garlic.  Lacey wet her mouth with the wine, gesturing with a fork.

“I thought you were gonna serve up some sort of gourmet dinner,” she said.

“I could do that if you want,” he said, and she shook her head.

“You don’t like the idea of a gourmet dinner?” he asked, and she wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t want to worry about which knife and fork to use, you know?” she said.  “This is better.  Home-cooked food in your kitchen.  I haven’t had that in as long as I can remember.  Not since Mum died, I guess.”

“When was that?” he asked, taking a drink, and she shrugged.

“I was about eight.  Car crash.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “That must have been hard.”

“Yeah.”  She took another bite of bread, the oil moistening her lips.  “Dad can’t cook beyond heating stuff up, so I kind of grew up learning how to use the microwave and order takeout.”

Gold picked up another piece of bread, dipping it in the pan and making his fingertips glisten with reddish oil.

“I could teach you some simple recipes,” he said.  “If you want.”

“It’s not that I _can’t_ cook,” she said.  “I mean, I have a microwave.  I can fry eggs and bacon.  I know how to work a toaster…”  She cut off with a sigh.  “Yeah, okay, I can’t cook.”

“You don’t have to start with anything complex,” he said.  “Just learn how to make an omelette, or something like that.  There are some easy pasta recipes I could show you.  Soups and stews are very simple.  That way you can always feed yourself even if you only have a few ingredients in the house.”

“Huh.”  She chewed, watching him over the rim of her wineglass, and took another drink.  “Well, if we get through tonight without yelling at each other, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He set down his glass with a wry smirk.

“Are you planning on yelling at me?”

“Not _planning_ on it,” she admitted.  “Just - recognising that it’s a possible outcome.”

Gold inclined his head.

“Well, we’re both of a somewhat volatile nature,” he acknowledged.  “Despite my best efforts, if given the right company I have been known to be uncharacteristically verbose after a few drinks, and I suspect you and I could have some heated discussions that may lead to one or both of us saying something to cause irreparable damage to this burgeoning relationship.”

Lacey snorted, licking her fingers clean and reaching for her wine.

“Gotta love a guy with a huge, throbbing vocabulary,” she remarked, and Gold grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light.  His eyebrow twitched.

“If you think that’s impressive, you should check out the length of my recollection of minor slights,” he said, and Lacey chuckled.

“You’re funny,” she said.  “How come I never see you date, Gold?”

“Because I’m a deeply unpleasant person,” he said, and she shot him a flat look.

“Apart from that.”

Gold sucked oil from his thumb, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“Well, I could ask you the same question,” he said.

“You could,” she agreed.  “But we’ll get to me in a minute.  I asked about you.”

He let his head roll back a little as he made a noise at the back of his throat, a rasping sigh that didn’t leave his mouth, and she got the feeling he didn’t want to answer.  Well, tough.  She’d asked the question.  He looked up, meeting her eyes.  His elbow was resting on the table, one hand raised, fingers flickering together as though he was twisting something between them.

“Even if _I_ were interested in dating, there’s no one in Storybrooke that would be,” he said eventually, and she put her head to the side.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Gold’s mouth twisted up at one corner, his eyes gleaming.

“Yes, and why is that?”

“Because you’re interesting,” she said.  “And you’re - I know where I am with you.  You have rules and you stick to them.”

“How romantic,” he said dryly.  “I can see why you’d be swept off your feet.”

She sniffed.  “If you’re looking for compliments, I’m fresh out.”

“I’m never looking for compliments.”

“Well then.”  She took a drink, setting down her glass and lifting her chin.  “I - I think I like you.  Is that enough?”

His smile widened.

“For now.”

* * *

When they had finished the prawns, Gold refilled their glasses, and Lacey watched curiously as he set about bringing the main course together.  The lamb was taken out of the oven, a joint sitting in a roasting tin on top of potatoes and onions, its skin a caramel colour and a wonderful scent coming from it.  Gold let it rest while he finished some sort of sauce, and she took pleasure in watching his butt wiggle as he stirred it.  She wondered how he looked underneath the suit, and realised that she was more than interested in finding that out.  Up to that point, of course, he had been his usual well-mannered, if sardonic, self, and she still had no clue whether he wanted anything from her other than her company.  She sighed to herself, taking a drink and wondering if she was going to have to be the one to make the first move.

When the sauce was done, Gold poured it into a jug and turned to the meat.  He carved thick slices, and Lacey saw that the lamb was pink and tender and studded with slices of garlic and sprigs of rosemary.  Her mouth watered.  He set a plate containing the slices of meat on the table, following with a dish of the potatoes and onions, another of glazed carrots and buttered kale, and the jug of sauce, rich and glistening.  Lacey breathed in deeply as he set down large serving spoons.

“Help yourself,” he said.  “The sauce is made with wine and rosemary.”

The smells coming off the food were incredible, so she lost no time in spearing a few slices of the lamb and putting them on her plate with helpings of the vegetables.  The first bite was intense: moist, tender lamb with the herbal taste of the rosemary and the sweetness of garlic.  The sauce was rich and sticky, sweet and yet a little tart on her tongue, and she smacked her lips.

“Is there - is there cranberry in this?”

Gold smiled.

“Very good,” he said.  “My aunts used redcurrant jelly, but it’s hard to find over here.  Cranberry does as well.”

“Your aunts taught you to cook?” she asked, popping another piece of lamb into her mouth, and he pulled a face.

“I used to call them aunts, but we weren’t really related,” he said.  “They used to look after me a fair bit when I was young.  Good cooks.  Good women.”

“You still see them?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“Not for years.  I’ve thought about going back, sometimes, but…”  He shrugged, popping a piece of lamb into his mouth and chewing.

“Sometimes you can’t go back, I guess,” she said quietly, and he eyed her shrewdly.

“Indeed.”

They both fell silent as they ate, and eventually Lacey put her knife and fork on her plate and leaned back with a sigh.

“That was so delicious,” she said.  “Compliments to the chef.”

He grinned at her.  “I’m glad you approve.  There’s dessert, if you want.”

“I couldn’t eat another thing right now,” she admitted.  “Maybe later.  D’you want me to wash up?”

He shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it, you’re a guest.  We’ll go through to the lounge and relax.  The dishes can wait.”

She helped him clear them off the table, though, stacking the plates by the sink with the cutlery on top, and then Gold poured the last of the wine and led her through to the lounge.  There was a fluttering sensation in her belly, a nervousness now that dinner was over.  A quick glance at the clock showed her that it was just after nine, and she wondered whether he would want her to stay longer.  Or whether he would kiss her.  Her internal monologue was running rampant, increasing her anxiety over the uncertain nature of their encounter.   _Good that he didn’t cook something fancy, but if this was supposed to be romantic he would have, right?  That was great food, delicious food, but was it just good food for a friend?  Are we friends?_ She chewed her lip, shooting a glance at him as he bent to throw another piece of wood on the fire.   _No, Gold doesn’t care about having friends, we can’t be friends.  Is it a date?  Does he want me, or does he just feel protective of me because Dad’s such a shit?  Or is he just lonely?  He said he wanted to cook for someone, and he’s right, no one else would come.  I think he’s just lonely._

“You can sit down, you know.”

Gold’s voice made her jump, and the wine sloshed in her glass, splashing on her fingers.  She sucked it off before it hit the floor, and Gold gave her a tiny smile.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said hurriedly, and took a drink of the wine before she could throw the rest of it over herself.  “Yeah, I’m just - I guess I’m wondering why you asked me over.”

“Ah.”  He was silent for a moment, fingers tapping on the side of his glass.  “Would you believe that I thought you could do with a meal that didn’t come out of a box?”

“I’d believe that’s part of it,” she allowed.  “Come on, stop being secretive.”

He took a drink of his wine, setting the glass down on the mantelpiece as he swallowed.

“I think you’re good company,” he said eventually.  “You have - you have this fire in you.  You’re not afraid of me.  It makes a pleasant change to see a smile on the face of the person I’m talking to.”

“Oh.”

Well, that was true.  She wasn’t afraid of him.  She put her own glass down, taking a step closer, and licked her lips a little nervously.

“Do you think - do you think I’m pretty?” she asked, and his mouth twitched.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

She felt herself blush a little at the sincerity in his voice, and she took another step towards him.

“Then - then will you kiss me?” she asked, and his mouth twisted into a wry smile.

“I did tell you about the self-destruct button, did I not?”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” she said, and he chuckled.

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin, letting one hip jut out in a challenging stance.

“So, how about it?” she said.  “It’s just a kiss.”

“What if it isn’t?”

His eyes gleamed at her, and she couldn’t tell if he was amused or aroused.

“I guess we’ll never know if you just stand there like a _jerk_ ,” she said crossly, and he burst out laughing.

“There’s that fire again.”

“See?”  She grinned.  “You like me really.”

“I like you very much.”

“Good.  Then kiss me.”

The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and she wondered what he tasted like.  His eyes swept over her, up the length of her legs and flickering over her body until he met her gaze.

“Alright,” he said softly.

She took a step closer, until she was only inches from him.  Her heart had begun to thump in her chest, her breath quickening, and he moved closer, one hand reaching up to gently cup her cheek.  There was a faint scent of cologne on his skin, and his thumb stroked over her cheek, running over the soft swell of her lower lip.  Lacey’s breath hitched in her chest.  His eyes had darkened, his breathing a little harder, and he leaned the cane against the fireplace, reaching up with the other hand to cradle her face.  He was standing very close, almost close enough for their bodies to touch, and she could feel the heat from him.  Warmth and tension coiled in her belly at the thought of having him pressed against her, his mouth on hers.  At the thought of opening up the silk shirt and sliding her hands inside.

His fingers caressed her cheeks, his forehead almost touching hers, and she dropped her eyes to his parted lips, soft and moist, his breath cool against her skin.  Gently, he lowered his mouth to hers, his lips brushing against her before pressing firmly.  She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of it, the softness of his lips and the faint scratch of new stubble on his upper lip.  His mouth pulled at hers for a moment before pressing down again, and she let out a tiny moan as his tongue softly parted her lips.  He tasted a little sweet, the rich wine on his tongue, and she slid her hands around his waist, tugging him against her.  His body was firm and lean, and she slid her hands up his back as his tongue stroked against hers, a low groan of pleasure coming from him.  

She still couldn’t feel enough of him, and so she pressed herself against him a little more, excited by his touch.  Gold growled, his hands sliding down her body, and suddenly he grasped her waist and turned, pushing her back against the wall as he deepened the kiss.  He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck and sucking on her pulse point, sending shivers through her.  Lacey gasped, stroking her fingers through his hair and releasing more of his scent.  His tongue swept over her skin, his hands slipping under her rear and squeezing gently, and she could feel wetness pooling between her legs, need coiling and tightening in her belly, her breath hard in her chest.  She wanted him to touch her, to reach up beneath her skirt and slip inside her panties and stroke her until she fell apart in his arms.  He was pushed up against her, and she could feel the rigid line of him, the proof of his desire.  He wanted her, perhaps as much as she wanted him, and the realisation helped her to come to a decision.

“Remember when you said you’d have me home by ten?” she said, and he drew back, almost panting, his eyes dark and wild.

“Yes,” he rasped.  “Do you want me to call you a cab?  I shouldn’t really drive after the wine.”

Lacey shook her head, her fingers combing through his hair.

“I don’t want to go,” she breathed, and he kissed her again, his mouth soft and wet.  He pulled back a little, pressing his brow to hers, his breathing hard and hot.

“Then don’t,” he whispered.  “Stay."

His lips pulled at hers, brushing against her, his stubble scraping her a little, his mouth soft and hard all at once.

"Stay," he breathed.  "Come to bed with me.”


	8. The Warmth That I Need

Gold lowered his mouth to Lacey’s again, revelling in the sweet taste of her and the softness of her lips as his hands squeezed her rear.  Her tongue was probing his mouth, her fingers still stroking through his hair.  He was already hard, pushed up against her, and she seemed excited by it, her hands sliding down over his chest, the palms rubbing over his nipples.  He growled into her mouth, hands sliding up her body to cup her breasts, and she moaned, pushing against his palms.  She had not yet agreed to his proposal, and he was wary of steering her in a direction that she wasn’t ready to go, despite her earlier offers of sex.  The fact that she wanted to kiss him now didn’t mean she would want anything more, no matter how enthusiastic she appeared to be.

A sneering, self-loathing part of his brain told him that he was vile for suggesting it, that it had taken him almost no time at all to throw aside his resolution that he wouldn’t touch her.  That she was far too young and damaged for the likes of him and that he should never have invited her to dinner in the first place.  He ignored the thoughts, true though they were.  Lacey was an intriguing blend of inner fire and bravery and the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide.  He had always found her beautiful, but that first taste of her kiss, the feel of her body against his, had lit a fire within him, burning and seething.  He was well aware that his actions would in all probability blow up in his face in spectacular fashion, but she was soft and warm and deliciously sweet and _God_ , it had been so fucking long!

He broke the kiss, thin strings of their saliva stretching and snapping back against his lips, and Lacey heaved a breath, her eyes darkened, her mouth full and deep pink from the pressure of his.  Her body shuddered a little as she tried to catch her breath, and he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, stroking a thumb over skin as soft as feathers, his nose just brushing hers.

“I can still call you that cab, you know,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, and she shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, and he was surprised to see a faint blush in her cheeks.  “No.  Can we - can we go upstairs?”

He felt himself smile.

“Of course.”

He pushed back, grasping his cane and letting it take the weight of his bad leg.  Lacey straightened up, and he held out his hand.  She licked her lips as she eyed it, and for a moment he thought she would change her mind.   _Better for her if she does,_ the snide voice in his head whispered.   _Better for you, too, you bloody idiot.  Where the hell do you think this is going?  Why is she even here?_

“I - um - I have condoms in my bag,” she said, jerking a thumb at the door, and her blush deepened a little.

“Right,” he said.

She seemed nervous, unsure of herself, and it was making him feel calmer, as though he needed to comfort her.  He leaned in to kiss her gently, a soft press of his mouth on hers, and she let out a tiny sigh.  She slipped her hand into his, glancing up at him, and he sent her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  A gentle tug of his hand, and she fell into step behind him, following him to the door of the lounge.  She snagged her bag with one hand before they mounted the stairs, her shoes clicking on the wooden treads.  Her hand was warm in his, and he could feel his heart start to thump with anticipation as they entered his bedroom.  He turned on the lamp on the nightstand, filling the room with a warm glow, and Lacey’s eyes flicked from left to right, taking in the antique dresser and wardrobe and the French bed with its high, ornately-carved headboard.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to sell your bed,” she remarked, and he grinned.

“I am rather attached to it,” he admitted.

He took a step towards her, then stopped as Lacey dug in her bag, pulling out the box of condoms she had bought.  She peeled off the plastic wrapper, shoving it back in the bag, and held up the box a little hesitantly, her eyes wide and clear and somehow uncertain.  He took the box between finger and thumb, opening it up and dropping two condoms onto the nightstand, and she licked her lips again.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, and she nodded hurriedly, tossing her bag aside.

“Fine, why wouldn’t I be?” she said, and put her hands on her hips, raising her chin.  “Are you gonna kiss me, or just stand there?”

Her lips parted, the light of challenge in her eyes, and he felt a tug in his groin, his cock still half-hard from his first taste of her.  Her mouth had been hot and sweet, a pleasure to explore with his tongue, her skin soft and smooth beneath his fingers.  He thought of what she might taste like if he were to get her naked, to lay her down on his bed and run his tongue down her body and in between her legs.  She would taste even sweeter there, and his mouth watered at the thought of it.

“Come here, then,” he said, his voice low and rough, and Lacey stepped forward boldly, putting her hands flat against his chest.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

Gold ducked his head, capturing her lips with his, and she moaned into his mouth, pushing a little until he stepped back to lean against the bedroom wall.  He let his cane fall to the side, clattering against the nightstand, and Lacey started plucking at the knot of his tie, fingers working the length of silk until she got it undone.  She seemed more sure of herself now, perhaps more in control, and he was happy to let her do anything that made her feel comfortable.  Particularly as what she seemed to enjoy most was having his hands on her breasts and his tongue in her mouth.  She hummed in pleasure, pressing her body against his, and he felt himself swell and harden in his pants as his hands ran over her curves.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, trailing his lips down her neck, and Lacey moaned, her body undulating.  Her hair was starting to come loose from its pins, and he gently pulled them out, running his fingers through her loose curls and letting them tumble around her shoulders.  His heart clenched at her beauty, and he drew his tongue up her throat, nipping at her jaw before kissing her again.  Her fingers had gone to work on the buttons of his shirt, plucking them open, and he took a moment to remove his cufflinks and place them on the nightstand as she got the last button undone.  Lacey bit at his lower lip, and he groaned, grabbing a fistful of her dark hair and kissing her hungrily.  She gasped into his mouth, and Gold put a hand on her waist and turned, shoving her back against the wall and covering her body with his.  Lacey moaned again, opening her legs a little, her hands sliding inside his shirt and over the skin of his chest.

Gold pulled back, his hands shaking as he reached for the buttons of her shirt.  They were small and black, almost invisible against the fabric, but he managed to get them open, Lacey’s pale skin revealed in flashes as he worked his way down.  She was breathing hard, and he bent to kiss the small firm breasts cupped in black lace, his tongue rubbing over the hard peaks of her nipples.  She moaned when he stripped the shirt from her, head rolling back against the wall as it fluttered to the floor, and reached up to push his own shirt from his shoulders.  Gold let it fall, bending his head to taste her through the lace again, sucking a nipple into his mouth and making her groan.  She let her fingers sink into his hair, making him shiver, and he used a forefinger to pull down the edge of the bra cup, pushing her plump white flesh upwards, sucking on it and leaving pink marks on her perfect skin.  He pulled the lace down a little further, exposing the darker bud of her nipple.  He circled it with his tongue, sucking it in between his lips, and Lacey arched her body into him, her nails scratching his scalp.

Gold straightened a little, reaching around her back to unhook her bra, his fingers fumbling a little with the catch.  He tugged the straps from her shoulders and down her arms, and Lacey dropped her hands to her sides, letting the bra fall.  He ran his eyes over her, a low growl rumbling from him, and she slipped a finger beneath his chin, lifting his head to meet his gaze.  Her pupils had widened, her mouth full and moist, and he reached up to cup her cheeks, his thumb rubbing over her lower lip, spreading the moisture there.  The tip of her tongue darted out to touch his thumb, swiping over the tip, and he growled again, slipping it into her mouth.  Lacey sucked at him, her eyes locked on his, her soft tongue pressed against the pad of his thumb, and he wanted desperately to be inside her, to feel her wet, velvet heat all around him.

He drew out the thumb as he bent to kiss her, her lips slippery with saliva, and his tongue swept around her mouth, his fingers pushing into her hair, his body pressing against her.  Lacey moaned into his mouth, her fingers clutching at his sides, and he kissed down her neck again, his need making him rough, his mouth pulling at her skin.  She slid her hands up his back, nails digging into his shoulders, her breath whistling out through her lungs as she clung to him, and Gold pulled back, his breathing ragged.

“You alright?” he rasped, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, dammit, shut the fuck up!”

He smirked, pulling her towards him a little so that he could reach around to pull down the zipper of her skirt.  It fell to her feet, and Lacey kicked it away, lifting her feet one by one so she could pull off her shoes and throw them aside.  She was considerably shorter without her heels, and he had to bend his head lower to kiss her, his hands cupping her firm breasts.  His lips trailed along her jaw to nip at her earlobe, and Lacey shivered.

“Bed?” he whispered, and she nodded.

He had lost his cane, but she let him lean on her, and he tried to put his lameness from his mind, to shove away the intrusive thoughts that told him she would recoil at the sight of his ruined leg, the thoughts that wondered why the hell someone as young and bright and beautiful as she would ever be there with him.  He laid her down on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall on the tide of her breath as he knelt at her feet and unbuckled his belt, kicking off his shoes and tugging off his pants and socks.  Lacey had her eyes closed, one arm over her face, her lips full and parted, and he slipped off his underwear, glancing to the nightstand to ensure the condoms were still there.

He slid his hands up her thighs, his fingers hooking over the waistband of her tights and pulling them down over her hips, exposing her black lace thong.  Lacey let her arm fall to the side again, raising her hips a little to help him pull them down, and he tugged them off her feet and tossed them aside.  She pushed herself up on her elbows, watching him, and Gold put his hands on her knees, shifting a little as he moved between her legs, pushing them apart.  He walked up the bed on his hands, looming over her, and Lacey fell back against the pillows, her dark hair spreading out in shining waves, fragrant with her perfume.  He stared down at her for a moment, fixing her face in his mind, wanting to remember this night.

She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, reaching up to cup his cheek, and he reached to the side, grabbing for one of the condoms and throwing it onto the bed at her hip.  Her mouth was hot and wet when he kissed her, and she squeezed at him with her thighs, her fingers trailing through his hair.  Gold pulled his mouth from hers and kissed down her neck and over her breasts, sucking at each nipple, his hands squeezing her, his tongue flickering over her skin and tasting faint salt and a hint of roses from whatever lotion she used.  Lacey moaned, arching her back a little, and he let her nipple slip from his mouth, running his tongue over the stiff pink peak.

He slipped lower, kissing down over the flat of her stomach, his lips trailing over her skin, sucking at her, his hands pushing her thighs apart as his nose brushed the waistband of her underwear.  He could smell her arousal through the black lace, the heady scent of sweet musk, and he pressed a kiss to her through the lace, her fluids wetting his lips.  Lacey whimpered, and his tongue flickered over his lips, catching the first, faint taste of her.  He growled in pleasure, bending his head to her, letting his tongue swirl against the lace, the texture rough against him.  She moaned as he tasted her desire, his tongue pushing and stabbing between her folds, but it wasn’t enough, and he reached up to tug down the thong, pushing it down her thighs a little way and bending to slip underneath it so that he could push it over her knees and tug it off at her feet.  She was naked, and beautiful, the soft skin between her legs a dusky pink, smooth and warm and glistening with her juices, and slowly he pushed her thighs apart, bent his head, and put his mouth to her.

His tongue swept through her soft flesh, and Lacey cried out, her hands twisting in his hair.  The flavour of her burst across his tongue, and he groaned in pleasure, licking her in a steady rhythm, burying his face in her.  She tasted incredible, and he slid his hands under her buttocks, lifting her up so that he could reach more of her, his tongue sliding over her soft flesh.  Lacey moaned, her body writhing beneath him, and he could feel wetness at the end of his cock, pre-cum blotting against the sheets as his urge to be inside her grew.  His fingers dug into her as he shifted, rubbing against the blankets, wanting more than anything to sink deep inside her.

He kept on licking her, his tongue circling and swirling around the hardened nub of her clit, and he felt her body stiffen, her fingers tighten in his hair.  Her breath was coming in pants, and he let the flat of his tongue swipe over her, his pace quickening.  She whimpered something, her body arching upwards, and then she came with a cry, falling back against the blankets, her legs jerking.  He groaned at the first taste of her bliss, hot fluid coating his lips and spreading on his tongue, and her thighs clamped around his head as he licked at her.

“Holy crap!” she gasped, and he grinned, pressing a final kiss to her and pushing up on his hands.  She was gazing up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, her chest heaving.

“You alright?” he asked, trying not to feel smug, and she swallowed, nodding.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’m fine.  That was - well, that was awesome.  I’ve never - that was incredible, Gold, not gonna lie.”

“Good.”

He reached for the condom, picking up the packet between thumb and forefinger.  He raised an eyebrow, an unspoken question, and she licked her lips, nodding.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes dropped then, flicking over his body, and he busied himself with opening the foil packet, trying not to imagine what she was thinking.  He knew he was too thin and too old and too broken to be much to look at naked, but to her credit she didn’t say anything.  Because she was too good.

He got the condom on, lying back down between her legs, shifting his body to press up against her, and Lacey lifted her head up off the pillows to kiss him, her nose wrinkling as she tasted herself on his lips.  He reached down between them to where she was wet and slippery with desire, his fingers sliding against her flesh, and she moaned at his touch.  His finger entered her easily, slipping deep inside, and he pushed it in and out, letting her get used to the feel of him.  A second finger joined the first, and she gasped into his mouth, her grip tightening on his shoulders.  He withdrew the fingers, taking himself in hand to line them up, and slowly pushed the head of his cock inside her, gritting his teeth at the feel of her around him.  He pushed in further, and Lacey let her head fall back with a loud moan, lifting her knees and letting him sink deep until his balls pushed up against her.

 _“Fuck!”_ he gasped, and she lifted her head to kiss him again.

He began to thrust, the feel of her almost too incredible to bear, the scent of her surrounding them.  She pulled her mouth from his, panting, her breath hot on his face, her hips moving in time with his, her flesh tugging at him.  His pulse was throbbing in his throat, waves of pleasure building in him, and he knew he wouldn’t last if he kept going.  He slowed his movements, leaning on one elbow and reaching down between them with his other hand, his fingers sliding into the slippery heat where their bodies joined, flickering over her clit.  Lacey moaned and clutched at him, pushing her hips upwards, and he stroked and swirled, keeping his thrusts slow and shallow.  He could feel that she was building to another climax, and he kept up the pace, listening to her moans grow louder and feeling her thighs tighten around him.  Her cry of completion was almost a scream, and he pulled his hand free as she bucked against him, feeling her clench around him, pulling at his cock.  The feel of her alone was almost enough to make him come, but he stilled, letting her ride out her pleasure until she fell back against the pillows again, tiny moans still coming from her.

Lacey gasped for breath, perspiration forming on her lips, on her forehead, in between their bodies.  Her skin was tingling, the afterglow of her pleasure rippling through her.  Gold was looking down on her, a wry, smug grin on his face, and she reached up to comb her fingers through his damp hair, licking dry lips as she tried to catch her breath.

“Wow,” she whispered, and his grin widened.

He bent to kiss her, sticky fingers pushing through her hair and spreading her scent, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he began to thrust again.  He was hard and thick inside her, pushing in and out, his movements quickening a little, and he groaned into her mouth as he thrust, one arm reaching down to hook under her leg and pull it upwards.  Lacey threw her head back with a cry as he plunged into her, the depth of his thrusts almost painful, and she could feel his cock inside her, rigid and unyielding as his pace quickened.  His hips pumped, the tendons in his neck and shoulders standing out, and he let out a long, low groan of pleasure as he came, pulsing inside her, his thrusts quick and shallow as he pumped against her.

Eventually he slowed and stopped, a final, shuddering groan coming from him, and pushed his face down into the pillow by her neck.  His body was slick and hot, his chest heaving, and she stroked his hair as they both tried to steady their breathing.  She could still feel him inside her, but he was starting to soften, and he pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down at her with a sleepy, contented expression that she had never seen in his eyes before.  She brushed strands of his hair off his face, feeling the rasp of new stubble on his cheeks, and he smiled softly, his eyes crinkling.

“Alright?” he asked, and she nodded.

He pushed up further, reaching between them to grasp the base of the condom as he pulled out.  The sensation of not having him inside her was odd, and she watched as he got off the bed, grasping on the floor for his cane and pushing himself to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he said, and walked naked from the room, his buttocks twitching as he went.

Lacey watched him leave, letting out a sigh.  Her muscles were aching, but she felt wonderfully loose and relaxed, and she let her legs straighten, one hand on the flat of her belly, her skin still tingling a little.  Running her other hand over her face, she felt her lips, plump from kisses and tender from the scrape of his stubble.  Raising her head, she could see pink marks on her breasts where his kisses had marked her, and she slipped her hand between her legs, feeling the tender flesh, swollen with her pleasure and slippery with her juices.  

It was the first time she had ever had sex.

The air in the room was cool, and she sat up, pulling back the covers and sliding in between the sheets to lie back down.  She supposed she ought to leave; it was late, and she wasn’t sure how he would feel about her staying longer.  He smiled when he came back in the room, though, and she sneaked a look at his lean body, warm in the light of the lamp.  The hair between his legs was dark, spreading a little way up onto his lower belly.  She could see the shadow of his navel and the line of his ribcage, and thought he could stand to eat a little more.  Perhaps that was why he had asked her to dinner, a chance to make a decent meal.

He climbed into bed beside her, spooning up behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist, and she let out a sigh, relaxing into the pillows.  It wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer.

* * *

It was just after seven when Gold woke, the bed beside him cold.  Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he sat up.

“Lacey?” he called, his voice a little hoarse.  Silence.

He looked around the room, and nodded resignedly as he saw that her bag, clothes and shoes were gone.  Perhaps she had a morning shift at the diner, and hadn’t wanted to wake him.  Perhaps she had stayed until dawn, curled in his arms, as content as he.  Then again perhaps she had gone as soon as he was asleep, dressing in a hurry and slipping from the house like a ghost.

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face, inhaling the last of her scent on his fingers.  Rolling onto his belly, he pulled the pillows into his arms, pushing his face into them and drawing her perfume deep into his lungs, as though he would keep a part of her inside him.


	9. She Ain't The Sentimental Type

Lacey had woken at just after one, unused to the firm heat of a body pressed against hers.  She had slipped from Gold’s arms, creeping around the room to pick up her scattered clothes and padding silently to the bathroom to dress.  Before leaving, she had put her head around the bedroom door, but he was still asleep, lying on his side with his breath coming lightly through his nose and his hair falling over his face.  She had slipped away, donning her shoes only when she was on the porch, and walking swiftly home.  The kittens had been pleased to see her, and spent some time sniffing her hands and face when she picked them up.  Smelling Gold on her, no doubt.  There had been more sniffing when she climbed into bed with them in her sweats and vest, the cats rubbing their heads against her, and Lacey lay in the dark with three purring balls of fur nestled by her side, a hand on her belly as she ran over the events of the evening in her mind.  She chewed her lip, remembering the feel of his hands on her, the taste of his kiss, the way he moved inside her.

She hadn’t been kidding when she told him that she was considered the town slut.  The fact that it was about as far from the truth as it was possible to get was beside the point.  Oh, it wasn’t as though she had never kissed a guy, or even had the odd grope behind _The Rabbit Hole_ after a few beers, but that was as far as things had ever gone.  The guys she had kissed had been disappointed when she turned down their offers of sex, and sneeringly told their friends she was an easy lay.  She hadn’t bothered to call them out on their lies.  For one, it meant that she could make up whatever she wanted about their prowess - the lingering rumour that Keith couldn’t get it up without being called “big bad Sheriff Sir Fucksalot” was one of hers - and for another, they all seemed to think they had a shot with her.  So she simply batted her eyelids, wore a lower-cut top, and fleeced them of their hard-earned cash at the bar and pool table.

Of course the rumours of her licentiousness had gotten back to her father when she was seventeen or so, and he had grounded her, but she had moved out not long after that, with Gold’s help.  Looking back now, she was furious at her father’s reaction, considering his offer to Gold when she was barely sixteen.  Another hypocrite man who thought her worth lay in her pants, and only then when he could make use of it for his own gain.  At least he’d never touched her himself, not in that way.  There were girls in town who she was pretty sure weren’t that lucky.  She bit her lip, shaking her head.   _No, your own father just used to smack you around and tried to sell you off to the landlord when you were only a kid.  Real candidate for Father of the Year.  No big deal._

Lacey supposed that it was ironic, and somehow fitting, that Gold had been the one to take her after all.  It hadn’t taken her long to make the decision that it would be him.  Part of her was sure that her subconscious must have been considering it for years, and that it was merely his revelation of her father’s offer, and his own refusal, that truly sparked her interest.  His sneaky way of getting the rent money to her, so she wouldn’t have to sleep with him, had sealed the deal.  She had thought he would be good to her, that he would ensure her pleasure.  There was something about him, something she had felt for all the time she had known him, without truly understanding it.  It was those long, careful fingers of his and the precise ways he had, the way that energy seemed to be coiled tight at his core, and the passion and darkness that sometimes flared in his eyes.

The whole evening had been incredible, and she was glad that she had made the decision to let him be the one.  Given her reputation, he would never have suspected she was an innocent, if indeed virginity was how innocence was measured.  She doubted she would ever tell him, though, and she supposed it didn’t matter.  The deed was done.

She rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her belly.  Perhaps she should have left a note, to thank him for the evening.  She almost snorted to herself at the thought.   _A fucking_ thank you _note?  Get a grip, Lacey!  How would that even go?  Dear Mr Gold.  I don’t even know your first fucking name, but I wish to express my most heartfelt thanks for the wonderful evening we shared.  The food was simply sublime, and I was particularly grateful for the screaming orgasms._

She giggled to herself, imagining his expression.  No note, then.  Probably made things easier, anyway.  She wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, and she got the feeling that pillow talk wasn’t his thing.  Too closed off.  Idly, she wondered again what his reasons were for his drunken bender and shitty mood earlier that week.  Unlikely she would ever find out.  He hadn’t spoken when he had gotten back from the bathroom, just scooted up behind and put an arm around her.  She had lain there for awhile, waiting for him to say something.  Anything.  She was met with silence.  He had given her no clue as to how much he’d enjoyed the sex.  Well, apart from the obvious, of course.

The silence had grown heavy, and she had wanted to break it, to ask him if he wanted her to stay, to tell him how good he had made her feel, but the words had stuck in her throat, caught and held by his own lack of interaction.  She had nothing to compare the sex to, but it had felt pretty amazing to her, and his silence had made her worry that perhaps he had been - underwhelmed.  Disappointed.  Given the snide rumours about her, maybe he had expected her to be better.  She had only relaxed when his breathing evened out, sleep taking him.  Better that she had left.  Less awkward, she was sure of it.

She snuggled down, lifting a hand to inhale the last, lingering scent of his cologne on her fingers.  She had gotten what she wanted, and she guessed he had too.  There was no need for either of them to act weird about it.

* * *

As it was Sunday, Gold didn’t open the shop, but he still went to the diner for his morning coffee and found that Lacey wasn’t there.  No early shift, then.  He drank the coffee slowly, fingers tapping against the sides of the cup, wondering whether to approach her.  He decided against it; she had clearly left for a reason, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it was.  At the time she had seemed to enjoy herself, but perhaps that was all a heat-of-the-moment thing.  The cold light of day could be a time of bitter self-reproach.  He knew that all too well.

He glanced up at her window as he passed by, but the curtains were drawn, and so he made his way slowly home, a light drizzle soaking his face and hair.  The dessert he had made for the previous night’s dinner was still in the fridge, untouched, and he looked at it for a moment before closing the door and making himself more coffee.  It seemed that, after all his long years, he understood women no better.

* * *

Lacey was woken by Severus standing on her head and patting her cheek with a small paw.  Groaning, she rolled onto her back, dislodging him, and the other cats pounced on her immediately.

“Bloody hell!” she moaned.  “Let Momma sleep, you buggers!”

She was answered by purring and tiny mews, and she sat up to pet them all, grabbing her phone and checking her updates.  No message from Gold, not that she had expected one.  There was a hurried call from Granny stating that Merida, one of the waitresses, was off sick, and asking if she could cover that afternoon’s shift.  She slipped from the bed, grumbling, and shuffled into the kitchen with the kittens at her heels.  It was later than she had thought, and she groaned again as she realised she was due at the diner soon.  She fed the cats and cleaned out their litter box before jumping in the shower in an attempt to wake herself up.  Her muscles were aching after the previous night’s activities, a pleasant sensation, and she sighed as she scrubbed at her skin, washing away Gold’s lingering scent.

Breakfast consisted of coffee and a bagel with grape jelly, and she reminded herself to be a grown-up and stock the fridge with something that resembled actual food when she next got paid.  She threw on her diner uniform: a short red pleated skirt and a cap-sleeved white blouse that was a little too see-through.  Granny’s eyes always narrowed when she saw it, but Lacey didn’t see that her outfit was any more revealing than Ruby’s, and Ruby managed to get away with showing off most of her body while serving drinks.  Besides, it meant she got better tips in the evenings.

She managed to get out of the door with ten minutes to spare before her shift started, and sauntered along the street, her mind drifting back to the previous night.  She had gone to sleep relatively content with her actions and decisions, but in the cold light of day she was starting to second-guess herself.  Her mind kept slipping back to the fact that he hadn’t said anything afterwards, beyond checking that she was okay.  Had her inexperience been evident?  Had she not been good?  She chewed her lip, remembering that she had pretty much lain there and let him do most of the work, and wanted to kick herself. _Maybe he thinks that’s why I sleep around.  Because no one bothers a second time._

She stopped dead, her own thoughts needling her, and was shoved forward as someone collided with her with a muffled curse.  Staggering, arms flying out to keep her balance, she turned around, ready to hear an apology.  A woman was glaring at her, pale and tall, with strawberry-blonde curls falling past her shoulders.  She was wearing a tailored dark-green dress beneath a black coat, and had a stupid fucking hat perched on her head.

“Watch where you’re bloody well going!” snapped the woman.   _Huh.  So she’s English._

“You walked into _me_ ,” Lacey pointed out, and the woman tossed her head, curls flying.

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were going to stop dead?” she demanded.  “I don’t have the power to read minds!”

Lacey put her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, and I don’t have eyes in my arse!”

“Well, you should be more careful,” said the woman, with a sniff.

“Whatever.”  Lacey rolled her eyes.  “Can’t be expected to think for you as well as myself, lady.  Had my mind on other things.”

“Really?”  The woman looked her up and down with a sneer.  “Like how you forgot to put on clothes?”

Lacey felt herself flush, fists clenching.   _So.  English,_ and _a bitch._

“I’m going to _work_!” she said defensively, and the woman gave her a nasty smile.

“My apologies,” she said.  “And here I thought you were just getting off a - night shift.”

She stomped off, and Lacey glared at her back, her cheeks still flushed.  Looking down at herself, she wondered for the first time why the hell she had chosen a skirt that short.   _And bare legs in October?  Really?_  Hunching her shoulders, she continued in the direction of the diner.  No wonder no one ever took her seriously.  Who the hell could?

She barged through the door of the diner, feeling as though thunder clouds were hovering over her head, and went to hang up her coat.  Ruby looked over from where she was setting down a tray of dirty plates as Lacey stomped into the kitchen and snatched up an apron.

“Right on time,” she called.  “Listen, can you cover table nine?  I have to pee.”

“Sure,” said Lacey vaguely, and Ruby pulled an awkward face.

“Uh - you want to borrow a scarf, or something?” she asked, and patted her neck with a hand.

Lacey’s eyes widened, and she rushed to the small mirror staff used to fix their hair.  A large pink mark was on her neck, just over the place where her pulse throbbed.  In her semi-conscious state she hadn’t seen it.

“Dammit!” she hissed, and Ruby chuckled.

“Late night, huh?” she asked knowingly.  “Come on, Lace, dish the dirt.”

“There’s no dirt to dish,” lied Lacey.  “You got a scarf?”

“In my coat.”

She followed Ruby back out to the corridor where the coats hung, and waited as Ruby rummaged in the pockets of her red jacket before fishing out a length of red chiffon.

“I’ve had similar emergencies,” she said, handing it over.  “So, come on, who was it?”

“I thought you had to pee,” muttered Lacey, winding the scarf around her neck and tying it off.

“Yeah, that was before the evidence of sexcapades.”  Ruby grinned widely.  “Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“Guessing sounds good.”

Lacey ignored Ruby’s whine of protest, hurrying back into the diner to table nine.  With any luck, by the time the shift was over, Ruby would have moved on to another topic of conversation.  It wasn’t as though Lacey French hooking up with someone was anything out of the ordinary, after all.

* * *

Her day went from bad to worse.  The diner was busy, the miserable weather encouraging people to stop by for hot chocolate and causing them to linger far longer than necessary.  Sunday was also the day that Granny offered a steak special, popular with families and the older folks in town, and by nine in the evening Lacey was almost dead on her feet, her arms and feet aching and sticky with perspiration.  The patrons changed from families and couples to groups of single men and women, the rush on food slowing to a trickle, and Lacey heaved a sigh of relief, wiping her brow and changing her stained apron for a fresh one.

“I’ll clear twelve and thirteen,” said Ruby, who looked as weary as she.  “Can you take the bar?  Whale’s out there, being a sleaze as usual, and I can’t deal with him right now.  I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” said Lacey, heartily wishing that every customer would fuck off and die.

She pushed open the kitchen door, stomping out to the bar, and stopped dead as she saw Gold waiting there with his usual calm expression.   _Great.  I’m covered in sweat and stinking of fried stuff.  Just great._

“Hey, Lacey!” called Leroy, from a nearby booth.  “Can we get seven beers over here?”

Lacey tore her eyes away from Gold.

“Uh - sure, coming right up,” she said vaguely, and snatched up a glass.  With any luck Ruby would be out to serve Gold before she had to.  She could feel his eyes on her as she pulled the beers, and it was making her hands shake.  Images flashed through her head, memories of his hands on her, his fingers inside her.  The noise he made when he came.  The beer glasses clinked together as she carried a tray over to Leroy’s table, and he glanced up at her as she set them down.

“Y’alright?” he asked quietly, and she nodded, flashing him a smile.

“Long day,” she said.  “Enjoy ‘em, boys!”

She walked back to the bar, Leroy and his friends sending her a chorus of thanks, and snatched up a cloth, wiping up the spilt beer before throwing it aside and meeting Gold’s eyes.

“Hey,” she said.  “What can I get you?”

Gold watched her steadily, his face freshly-shaven above the midnight-blue silk shirt.  She could smell his cologne, and it made her belly tighten.  The realisation that he could probably smell nothing but the diner’s kitchen on her made her want to take a step back.

“I’ll take a whisky,” he said.  “Best you have.  Neat.”

“Sure thing.”

She turned away, reaching for the bottle and setting out a glass, and he watched as she poured a measure, setting it in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“No problem.  Anything else?”

His eyes were making her skin itch, as though something in his soul was trying to burrow underneath it.  It made her want to run and hide.

“You - ah - you didn’t stay for dessert,” he said, fingers flexing on the handle of his cane.  Lacey raised an eyebrow.

“That a euphemism?”

Gold blinked.

“No,” he said.  “I - I made dark chocolate and cherry terrine.”

_Of course you did._

“Oh,” she said, and shrugged.  “Well, more for you, I guess.”

“Right,” he said evenly.

“Hey, can I get some service before I die of thirst here?” called Dr Whale, and she rolled her eyes and sent Gold a quick look.

“Just - holler if you want another,” she said.  “Drink, I mean.”

Cringing at herself, she scuttled away to see to Whale, and when she turned back Gold had gone, a twenty dollar bill wedged under his empty glass.

* * *

She slept poorly that night, wriggling around in her bed, tired and aching but restless.  She had worked every night that week, and was due to work most of the next.  Her arraignment for the criminal damage charge was on Tuesday, and she wanted to get as much cash saved up as she could before then.  She supposed it was lucky that the state law in Storybrooke seemed to move at a glacial pace, but the fact that she was almost killing herself to pay back her father was _galling_.  Still, she could put aside another hundred for the debt if she had a similar week in tips.   _Should be done by Christmas, with any luck_ , she thought sourly.   _Unless they really decide to suckerpunch me with whatever fine they want to give me._

Sleeping late wasn’t an option with three kittens, but once she had fed them she got back into bed and they curled beside her, the four of them dozing until her phone buzzed at ten a.m.  Her eyes felt as though they were filled with gravel, but she washed and dressed and stomped off to the diner, the dark-grey clouds matching her mood.  As it was a Monday, the diner was reasonably quiet, and she managed to get through most of the day with the help of a grilled cheese and lots of coffee.

“Merida’s still sick,” Ruby informed her as they changed their aprons at six, ready for the evening rush.  “Should be extra work this week, if you want it.”

“I want to kill myself for saying this, but yes,” said Lacey wearily.  “What’s up with her, anyway?  Not like her to be sick.”

“Chest infection,” said Ruby, wrinkling her nose.  “Poor thing sounds like a bullfrog.”

“Well, I can take tomorrow’s early shift, but I have to go to court at two,” said Lacey gloomily.  “Can you cover for me for half an hour at the end?”

“Sure thing.”  Ruby looked at her, dark eyes wide with sympathy.  “You gonna be okay?  Did you get a lawyer?”

“Nah.”  Lacey shrugged.  “I mean it’s not like I’m pleading not guilty.”

“Even so.”

“I know.”  She sighed, gathering up some dirty plates.  “I just want it over with.  I’ll bite my tongue and lie about how sorry I am.”

“Yeah, how come you were so mad at your dad anyway?” asked Ruby.  “What did he do?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” remarked Lacey, stomping off to the kitchens, and Ruby let it go.

Customers trickled in and out, enough to keep the staff busy but not so much that either she or Ruby worked up much of a sweat, and as eight o’clock approached, Lacey was beginning to think that the day would end on a relatively pleasant note.

Her heart sank as Gold walked in.   _Why does he only ever see me exhausted and stinking of fries?_

He was dressed as impeccably as ever, and his mouth twitched in a brief smile as he caught her eye.  He also had a woman with him.  The woman who had been such a bitch to her the day before, no less.  She was wearing green again, a wrap dress that was far too expensive for Granny’s Diner, and a long wool coat with a fur collar that flared out as she walked.  Gold took a table before Lacey could offer one.

“A glass of red wine, please, Lacey,” he said, flicking his eyes up to meet hers.

“Make it a bottle,” said the woman, not even looking at her.  “Two glasses.”

Lacey didn’t respond, trotting over to the bar to uncork a bottle and set it on a tray with two glasses.  Gold was silent when she returned to the table, but the woman was still talking.

“I could have come to your shop,” she was saying.  “This setting is hardly affording us much privacy.”

“The shop closes at six,” said Gold evenly.  “You informed me that eight was the only time you could meet to discuss this, so this seemed the obvious place.”

“I also suggested dinner,” said the woman.  “This really wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Lacey felt a twinge of jealousy, but Gold merely shrugged.

“Well, given that you need to read through some documentation, I would have thought that the lights in this place would be helpful.”

“There’s an excellent restaurant on the way out of town,” she went on.  “A more - romantic atmosphere.  Not to mention a better place to satisfy one’s many - appetites.”

 _Jesus, lady, control your damn thirst!_ Lacey poured the wine, trying not to curl her lip.  Gold looked bored.

“Well, the menu here isn’t that extensive,” he said, “but if you’re hungry I’m sure there’ll be something.”

“We do good steaks, and there’s a lobster pot pie special,” interjected Lacey, setting down the bottle.  “Can I get you a menu?”

The woman looked down her nose at her, seeming to see her for the first time, a gleam of recognition in her eyes.

“I think not,” she said witheringly.  “By the look of how the staff dress I’d worry I’d catch something.”

Lacey straightened up, biting back an angry retort.

“Apologies, Lacey,” said Gold, in a calm voice.  “Miss Green is a little on edge, it seems.”

“Don’t apologise on my account, she’s only a waitress,” said the woman dismissively.

Lacey felt her insides shrivel and curl.  Gold was speaking, but she heard nothing, slinking away into the kitchens, a high-pitched ringing in her ears.  She let the door swing closed behind her, leaning back against the wall, tears pricking her eyes.   _Only a waitress.  Sole skill: the serving of burgers and fries.  Yep, that’s me.  All I am, and all I’ll ever be._


	10. No Man Is An Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time Lacey and Gold were awkward dorks after their night of passion, refusing to talk to each other about what happened. Then Gold showed up at Granny’s with Zelena, who was a bitch to Lacey and sent her already gutter-low self-esteem plummeting into the sewers. Here’s what happened next.

Lacey had no luck at hiding in the kitchen, but luckily business picked up, and the bar was busy.  She kept her head down, glancing over at Gold and his date on occasion.  If it _was_ a date; so far he had seemed less than interested in the woman’s flirting, and at one point he got out some documents to show her.  A matter of business, perhaps.  That only made her feel slightly better.  She was fairly certain that she had blown any chance of another night with him with her weird behaviour, although she couldn’t imagine why on earth he would want her anyway, when he could have someone that obviously had money, class and an education that went beyond high school.  The thought made her feel terrible, and she scowled to herself, wiping down the bar with more force than was needed.

Gold didn’t stay long, but he glanced over before he left.  She pretended not to see, carrying a tray of empty glasses through to the kitchen, and spent the rest of the night fretting over everything she had said and done since she had arrived at his house for dinner.  The man was making her lose her mind, and the worst part was he seemed completely unaware of it.

Luckily for her, she had plenty to occupy her the next day.  It was the date of her arraignment, and so she borrowed a skirt from Ashley, bought before she had gotten pregnant and barely worn.  It was hardly Lacey’s usual style, but it almost reached her knees, and she paired it with a dark blouse that wasn’t quite see-through, and toned down her make-up.  She hated having to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, but if that was what it took to keep her out of jail and her fine as low as she could, it was a no-brainer.

Her father did a double-take when she entered the courtroom with her head bowed and her hands clasped at her waist, the picture of penitence.  It was only when she was seated that she saw Gold, sitting a few rows behind Moe, his hands folded over the handle of his cane, watching her calmly.  It made her nervous, and she concentrated on the papers in front of her.  She almost dropped them when the judge entered, and clutched them to her chest as she stood, flustered.

Judge King was a middle-aged man with curling blond hair that was just starting to grey, and a neat beard.  He had a kindly look in his eyes, though, and she hoped he would take pity on her and at least not send her to jail for a first offence.  Her heart was thumping, and she was beginning to regret not hiring a lawyer.  Not that she could afford one.  The charge against her was read out, and she admitted her guilt, which earned her an approving nod from the judge.

“I just want to say how sorry I am, Your Honour,” she added.  “I’d - I’d been given some news about my father that upset me, and - and I let it affect my behaviour.”

“You certainly did,” said Judge King severely, looking over the top of his glasses.  “You caused a lot of damage to your father’s vehicle, Miss French.  I understand it’s affected his business.”

“I’ve had to make deliveries on foot while the van’s being fixed!” Moe interjected from the side, his nostrils flaring.  “I must have walked miles!”

“Well, it’ll take some of the excess weight off, won’t it?” snapped Lacey, before remembering to look contrite.  Judge King frowned at them both.

“That’s enough,” he said.  “This is my court, and I’d like you to limit your responses to any questions I may ask, do you understand?”

“I’m very sorry, Your Honour,” said Lacey humbly.  “For what I said, and for what I did.  I don’t know what came over me that day.  I’m ashamed of how I acted.”

“No she’s not!” snapped Moe.  “That girl never had an ounce of shame in her life!”

“Mr French, I said that’s enough!” said the judge sternly, and turned back to Lacey.  “Miss French, are you able to tell the court what the upsetting news was?  It may go towards mitigation.”

Lacey ducked her head, as though she was thoroughly ashamed.  She had thought long and hard about this, about outing her father, telling the entire town that he had tried to bargain away her innocence, but to do so would bring Gold into things, and no doubt cause the rampant and salacious speculation of the townsfolk as to whether he had agreed.

“I’m - I’m afraid I can’t do that, You Honour” she said quietly.  “I don’t want to get my father in trouble, sir.  I guess it’s not his fault he turned to drink when I was just a child...”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide, as though her words had slipped out accidentally.  Across the room, she saw the corner of Gold’s mouth twist up in a wry smirk.  She shot Moe a vicious look when the judge’s attention was distracted by his notes, and Moe waved an arm, beginning to bluster.

“She doesn’t give a crap about me!” he shouted.  “Look at her!  Playing the innocent, when the whole town knows what she’s like!”

“Mr French, I won’t tell you again!” snapped the judge.  “Any further outburst and I’ll have you removed from the court!”

Moe quieted, muttering under his breath, and Judge King glared at him as he began to make his order.  Lacey suspected that Moe’s bluster had gained him little sympathy, and although the stated fine of seven hundred and fifty dollars made her wince, it could have been much worse.  There was also the matter of the damage to the van.  Moe had provided a quote from _Marine Garage_ for just over fifteen hundred dollars, but the judge awarded twelve hundred and fifty, which made Moe splutter.  Lacey bowed her head.  Two thousand dollars.  She’d be working every night for months to pay it off, and the thought of it burned _._   _Still, I trashed his van, and he knows that I know how disgusting he is.  Worth it.  Worth every penny._

“Can you pay any of this amount today, Miss French?” asked the judge, and she nodded.

“I have a hundred and fifty dollars saved,” she said heavily, and he nodded.

“Given your straitened financial circumstances in the paperwork you provided, I’m going to order that the full amount of the fine and restitution be paid within six months,” he said.  “Come to whatever arrangement you can with Mr French, but I would suggest payment by bank transfer so that you have a record.  Any payments towards the fine should be made here at the courthouse.”

“Thank you, Your Honour.”  Lacey ducked her head, smirking as she saw Moe’s face reddening.   _I'll make him wait as long as I can for the bloody money, the bastard.  Yes, I'll enjoy that._

 _“Six months!”_ thundered Moe.

The judge stood, signifying the end of the hearing, and Lacey got to her feet immediately, trying to ignore her father’s ranting as she gathered up her things.  Gold was already leaving, his cane tapping on the floor as he headed for the doors, and she felt a twinge of disappointment.  She still didn’t know what the hell to say to him, but the longer they went without talking, the weirder it was going to get, and she had to admit that she missed the easy banter they had enjoyed before she went to bed with him.  Maybe it was time to be brave.

* * *

She decided that she would go to see Gold that evening, when he was ready to close up.  Maybe go for a drink.  Maybe just sit in his shop and talk about crap.  People did that, right?  Maybe go back to his place and let him bang her senseless.  Better yet, bang _him_ senseless, since she didn’t think she’d put in enough effort the last time.  She chewed her lip, insecurity rising in her.  What if he wasn’t interested, now he’d tasted what she had to offer?  She didn’t think she could take a flat no.

Telling herself to stop freaking out, she went home to change and pick up the money she had saved.  May as well pay towards the fine when she could.  Her father could fucking wait.  She had one hundred and sixty dollars stuffed into her book, but she put ten dollars back.  No sense in being completely broke.  She petted the kittens, checking on their food and water before she left.  With any luck she would be back before four-thirty, and she could play with the cats for half an hour or so before heading over to Gold’s shop.

No one spared her a second glance at the courthouse, and she trotted up the steps, sighing at the thought of handing over so much money.  The dark-haired clerk behind the counter looked down her shirt before remembering she had eyes, so she sneered at him, flicking back her hair.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the counter.  “Here to make a payment towards a fine.”

“You - ah - you have the reference?” he asked, tapping keys on the computer, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Sorry, didn’t bring the paperwork.”

“Name and date of birth, then.”

Lacey gave her details, and dug in her bag for the cash as the guy typed.

“Let’s see, Lacey French…”  He pursed his lips, his brow crinkling.  “There’s nothing to pay.”

Lacey looked up.  “What?”

“It’s clear.”  He gave her a flat look.  “You sure that’s the name?”

She glared at him.

“I’m not using a bloody alias!” she snapped.  “You sure there’s nothing on there?  Maybe they didn’t put it on the system yet.”

“No, it’s here,” he said.  “Judge King ordered seven hundred and fifty dollars, but it was cleared this afternoon.”

Lacey felt her stomach swoop, a heavy sensation of something approaching dread.  She swallowed hard.

“Who - who paid it?” she asked thickly, and the man clicked a few keys, his eyebrows raising.  He turned the screen so that she could see it, a smirk twisting his features.   _Mr Gold._

“Guess he can afford a lot of things, right?” he said, and Lacey felt herself blush.

Ignoring the obvious innuendo, she stormed out, feeling the clerk’s eyes on her ass.   _What the fuck?  What the bloody hell does he think he’s playing at?_

* * *

It was a pleasant day, and Gold was enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on his face, dark glasses shielding his eyes as he made his way along the street to the florist’s shop.  He noticed Moe’s van pull up outside, and Michael Tillman of _Marine Garage_ jump out of it, and so he walked over to make Moe French’s day a little worse.  The man himself was inspecting the vehicle with a disapproving twist to his mouth, but from what Gold could see he had no reason for complaint.

“I took the dents out,” Tillman was saying, waving a hand at the side panel.  “She did a number on the mirror, but I’ve replaced it and put new glass in.  Good as new.”

“Huh.”  Moe was frowning, looking up and down.  “The door’s scratched.”

Tillman shot him a flat look.  “Yeah, and it was scratched the last time you brought it in for a service.  Don’t bother trying to screw me.”

Moe grunted, stepping back.

“What do I owe you?” he asked grumpily.  “Guess I’ll have to pay it myself, since my no-good daughter doesn’t have to settle the debt for six fucking months.”

“Sixteen hundred.”

“Are you kidding me?”  Moe looked outraged.  “You quoted fifteen hundred!”

Tillman shrugged, and Gold smirked.

“I can give you three hundred, I guess,” said Moe then, and Tillman frowned.

“Hey, what about the rest?”

Moe waved a hand, stomping towards the shop.

“End of the week.  No worries.”

Tillman was staring after him, and Gold walked closer, his cane tapping on the sidewalk.  Tillman turned as he approached, stepping back as he recognised him.

“Mr Gold,” he muttered.

“Mr Tillman,” said Gold pleasantly.  “I see you’re having some difficulties with Mr French paying his debts.  May I offer my sympathies?  The man is less than reliable, I fear.”

Tillman scrunched his nose, folding sturdy arms across his chest.

“He says he’ll get me the money by the end of the week,” he said, sounding as though he didn’t believe a word.  Gold smiled.

“Perhaps I can help,” he said.  “I take it the bank details haven’t changed from the last time I had my car serviced?”

“I - no,” said Tillman, looking puzzled.

Gold nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket for his chequebook.  He opened it up and dropped it on the hood of the van, reaching into the pocket again for his pen.  The amount of twelve hundred and fifty dollars was written and the cheque signed with a flourish of his wrist, and he tore it from the book and handed it over between his first two fingers, baring his teeth in a smile.  Tillman blinked rapidly.

“I - I don’t understand,” he said, and Gold shrugged.

“Do you have to?”

“I... guess not,” said Tillman, meeting his eyes.  Gold grinned.

“Mr French can clear the rest,” he said, and there was a scuffling sound from the shop as Moe came out, a wad of bills in his hand.  He shoved them at Tillman with a sour expression.

“Three hundred,” he said gruffly.  “You’ll get the rest when I have it, okay?”

“No problem,” said Tillman, shooting Gold a look.  “I’ll just - I’ll get going.”

He tossed the keys to Moe, who caught them.  Tillman strode off down the street, looking quickly from left to right as he crossed the road, and Moe fixed Gold with a baleful glare.

“What do you want?” he snarled, and Gold smiled, giving the van an ostentatious look up and down.

“He’s done a good job,” he said conversationally.  “Looks as though you’ll be back to business as usual.”

Moe grunted.

“S’pose,” he said.  “Gonna be out of pocket until my slut of a daughter pays what she owes, though.”

Gold showed his teeth.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” he said.  “I’ve settled Miss French’s debt to you.”

“You have?”  Moe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Why?”

“Because I think you’re a terrible father and a waste of space, and quite frankly she shouldn’t have to have anything to do with you,” said Gold, in a cold voice.  “And if I hear you badmouth her once more, I won’t be responsible for my actions, do you understand me?”

Moe gave him a nasty, leering grin.

“I might have known,” he said.  “Didn’t mind being last in line after all, huh?  I thought you had better taste.”

Gold sighed, flexing his fingers on the handle of the cane.

“So you heard what I said,” he said calmly.  “And yet you decide to insult not only Miss French, but also me.  How unfortunate.”

He lifted his cane, the gold handle shining in the sunlight, and lashed out with it, smashing the window on the driver’s side and sending glass tinkling in all directions.  Moe stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and Gold’s grin widened.

“Oops,” he said.

* * *

Lacey stomped out of the courthouse, arms swinging as she walked rapidly down the street into the town.  She supposed that she should have been relieved at having an extra one hundred and fifty dollars to pay the debt to her father, but something told her Gold would have interfered on that front too.  Still, it was best to find out before she marched around to the shop to confront him.

Moe was sweeping up glass when she reached the flower shop, and she blinked in surprise as she saw that the driver’s window on the van was broken.

“I thought you were getting the van fixed,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.  “You’d better not have given the judge a made-up quote just to get money out of me.”

Moe snorted

“That’s fucking rich!” he spat.  “After the performance you gave?  Sitting up there and telling everyone I’m a bloody drunk…”

“You _are_ a bloody drunk!”

“...acting like butter wouldn’t fucking melt when this entire town knows what you are!”

Lacey squared her jaw.

“And what am I?” she demanded, and he sneered at her.

“You’re a bloody embarrassment, that’s what,” he said.  “Shameless, as well.  Sending Gold around to threaten me.”

“I didn’t _send Gold_ anywhere!” she snapped.  “If he threatened you with something, maybe you deserved it!  I just wanted to arrange to pay some of the money I owe.”

Moe curled his lip.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Gold already cleared it,” he said.  “How many times did you have to blow him to work that one, huh?”

Lacey flushed.

“My private life is none of your business,” she said coldly.  “What do you mean he cleared it?”

“Twelve hundred and fifty, paid to Tillman for the work,” said Moe grumpily.  “Didn’t stop the arsehole breaking my window, of course.  I should report him for that.”

_Yeah, but you won’t, because you’re a fucking coward.  Gold fucking paid it?  Why?  What the hell does he think he’s doing?_

“Guess there’s no need for me to be here, then,” she said, and turned on her heel.

“Enjoy his money while you can!” he called after her.  “I’m guessing he’ll get bored soon enough!”

Her brain filled with angry expletives, but she voiced none of them.  Cheeks reddening, she marched away, fury lending her speed.   _Bloody men and their bloody assumptions!  Why can’t they all just leave me the fuck alone!_

The sun was brushing the horizon as she marched up the street to Gold’s shop.  She glanced through the window as she headed for the door, and saw him looking at something on one of the shelves.  The bell above the door jingled as she shoved it open, and he looked around, his face breaking into a smile.

“Lacey,” he said pleasantly.  “I was just about to close up.”

“What did you do?” she demanded, striding up to him, and he blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You paid my dad off!” she snapped.  “ _And_ my fine!  What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

The smile slid from his face, and he turned to face her properly, closing his hands over the cane.

“I wanted to help,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

She was glaring at him, her chest heaving, and Gold sighed, his face suddenly expressionless.  Closed off.

“Well, maybe you didn’t have to,” he said.  “Maybe I wanted to do something for you, is that really so terrible?”

_“Yes!”_

“Why?” he asked.

“Lots of reasons.”

“Give me one.”

She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips.

“Well, first off, now my dad and the clerk at the court and probably the entire _town_ is gonna think I’m sleeping with you!” she shouted, and he blinked.

“Well, we did…”

“Gold, you don’t get it!” she interrupted.  “Because of this people are gonna think I only had sex with you because you paid my debts!”

Gold took a step forward, his eyes softening.

“Why do you care what a bunch of small-minded people think?” he asked gently.  “Our lives are none of their business.”

“Because…”  She spun away, running her fingers through her hair in agitation.   _Because they’ll look down on you for it, like they already look down on me, and I don’t know if I can bear that._

She heard Gold sigh behind her, and scowled at the floor.  Why couldn’t he understand?

“Lacey,” he said softly.  “Two thousand dollars is nothing to me, but I know full well how hard you would have to work to put that money aside.”

“Yeah, and I would have done it,” she insisted.

“And now you don’t have to.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” she said hotly.  “Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted your help?”

“Would you have taken it?”

She hesitated.

“No,” she admitted, and he nodded.

“As I thought.”

“But it would have been _my choice_ , don’t you get that?”

“No,” he said coldly.  “I think you’re being needlessly pig-headed about the matter.”

Lacey drew herself up to her full height, looking down her nose at him.

“Fuck you, Gold.”

His mouth twisted in a bitter smile.

“I believe we already did that.”

“Jesus…”

She turned away, shaking her head, and there was silence for a moment.

“If it makes you feel that uncomfortable, you could always offer to pay me back,” he suggested, and she turned back, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

“Would you take my money?” she asked, and he stared at her for a moment, his mouth working.

“No,” he admitted, and she shot him a wry look.

“As I thought,” she said, echoing his own words.  Gold’s mouth flattened, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t understand you,” he said.  “I know how hard you work at that bloody diner, and you want to sentence yourself to six months of seven-day weeks because of your bloody pride?”

Lacey glared at him.

“All I _have_ is my bloody pride!” she said, jabbing a thumb at her chest.  “I know I work fucking hard, Gold.  I don’t have a bloody _choice_!  Sometimes I get home at night and I’m so tired I can’t hold my head up, but I fucking well keep going because it’s all I’ve got, and _you_ …”  She wagged a finger at him.  “You just turn around and slap two thousand bucks down like it’s _nothing_!”

“It is nothing.”

“Then it’s like the work I do is nothing to you, don’t you get that?“ she snapped.  “You made me feel cheap!”

“You know very well I don’t think that way,” he said stiffly.  “I can easily afford it, and it helps you out.  Why wouldn’t you want that?”

“Because I don’t want to be in debt to you!” she shouted.  “I don’t want there to be this thing in the back of your mind that wonders whether I’m kissing you because I want to or because I owe you bloody money!”

He smirked a little.

“Are you planning on kissing me soon?”

“Gold, don’t…”  She ran her hands over her face.  “Don’t make fun of me.”

He held up a hand.

“I - I’m not,” he said gently.  “I swear it.  I’m wiping your debt clean, Lacey.  You owe me nothing, I promise you.  Can’t you just forget about it?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because you took away what little control I had in this whole shitty situation,” she persisted.  “I was gonna spend the next six months making my dad fucking wait!  I even planned a sudden drop in income around January just to see him lose his temper.  I was gonna be the one with the power for a bloody change, and you just waltzed on in with your golden fucking chequebook and took all that away!”

He blinked rapidly, settling back on his heels.

“Ah,” he said heavily.  “I didn’t think of that.”

“Clearly,” she said witheringly.  “Next time you want to play the knight in shining armour, do me a favour and hit yourself in the head with something.”

He opened and closed his mouth, one hand lifting before falling back against his leg, and she shook her head.

“See you around,” she muttered, and wrenched open the door, stomping out into the cold evening.

* * *

She was still angry when she reached her apartment, but it was impossible to remain so when she was greeted by three kittens.  Kicking off her shoes, she flopped onto the couch, gathering them up in her arms as they clambered onto her lap.  She breathed in the sweet scent of them, letting their purrs rumble through her body, and it helped to calm her.  She sat back, stroking the cats as they settled down.  Sighing, she let her head roll back against the cushions.  He had meant well, she supposed.  Bloody irritating man.  Chewing her lip, she scratched at Hagrid’s ears as she thought it over.  He had seemed completely oblivious to why she had been pissed at him.  Maybe that was what not having to think about money did for you.  Maybe he couldn’t remember ever having to struggle for everything.  Or maybe he could, and was just trying to help.  She groaned, running a hand over her face.  She had handled things badly, whatever his thinking.

“Story of my fucking life,” she muttered, and Hagrid rolled onto his back, presenting a white belly and mischievous green eyes.

“Don’t think I’m falling for that,” she told him firmly.  “Not looking to get my fingers bitten, thanks.”

She picked up the kittens and set them on the cushion at her side, pushing herself up and going to make a drink.  It was five o’clock, and given the day she’d had, she figured she deserved it.  She poured the last of the whisky from the bottle in the kitchen, curling her lip as it emptied.  No booze unless she went out to get some.   _Well, at least I can afford to, I guess._

Mouth twisting in a wry smile, she sipped at the whisky.  Maybe she’d go to the bar, play a few rounds.  The sound of the doorbell made her look up, and her eyes narrowed.  She set down her glass and stomped to the stairs, making her way down and opening up the door.  Gold was standing there, his cane out to the side and a paper bag tucked in the crook of his arm.  He looked tired.  Miserable.  She suspected he disliked fighting as much as she.  She folded her arms, raising her chin.

“Gold.”

“Lacey,” he said quietly.

There was a moment of silence, and he looked around a little awkwardly, taking a breath.

“I - ah - believe I’ve been in this position before,” he said, and she let one hip swing out, her mouth twisting.

“You bring a present this time?”

His eyes glinted in amusement.

“Alas, no.”  He held up the bag.  “I brought wine, if that’s any good.”

Lacey rolled her eyes, stepping back and holding open the door.

"Fine," she sighed.  "I was on my way out to get something anyway.  Looks like you saved me a job."

He stepped through the door, standing aside as she closed it behind them, and when she turned he was very, very close, his cologne drifting into her nose and making her breath hitch.  She raised her eyes to his, and they were dark and deep, staring into her soul.  There was a hint of new stubble just beginning to show on his jawline, his lips slightly parted as he breathed out, and she remembered how he tasted.  How he felt inside her.  She licked her lips, and noticed his eyes follow the tip of her tongue as it swept across.  His breathing seemed to have quickened a little, and she told herself to stop acting like a lovesick schoolgirl.  She met his eyes, lifting her chin and tossing back her curls.

“Guess you’d better come up."


	11. A Place to Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold paid Lacey's father for the damage she had done to his van, and cleared her fine, much to Lacey's annoyance. He later came over to apologise, with wine. Here's what happened next.

Lacey could feel her skin tingling as she followed him up, and she watched his body move as he climbed the stairs, his gait uneven with the limp.  She licked her lips, memories of the one night they had spent together crowding in and making her breathless.  He had come over, and had brought wine, so perhaps that meant he wanted to try again.  Perhaps she hadn’t been terrible.  Or perhaps she had, but he was feeling too lonely to care.  Either way she could make up for her lack of initiative the last time they slept together.  His inevitable apology for being a presumptuous asshat could wait.

She closed the door behind them when they reached the interior of the apartment, locking it and turning to face him.  He still had the bag in the crook of his arm, and she stepped forward to take it, hearing the clink of bottles and feeling the angles of boxed goods of some sort.  She hugged the bag to her chest, meeting his eyes.

“Just - just a second.”

She hurried to the kitchen, putting the bag onto the counter.  When she returned to the lounge Gold was staring at her intently, his chest rising and falling beneath the silk shirt, and she felt a lurch in the depths of her stomach, that tingle still running over her skin and making her heart thump.  Lacey took a step closer, the scent of him drifting into her nose, and his lips parted slightly as his breathing grew heavier, his eyes darkening with desire.  She imagined that she could feel the heat from his body, the air between them crackling and humming with electricity.  She licked her lips, watching as his eyes dropped to focus on her mouth.   _Be brave, Lacey.  Make the first bloody move._

She stepped up to him, raising her eyes to his, feeling the pulse throb in her throat as she breathed in his scent, warm with cologne and fresh with the cold evening air.  Their bodies were almost touching, her nose only inches from his, and she watched him swallow hard as she reached out a little hesitantly, her fingers sliding up his chest and gripping the lapels of his overcoat as she stretched up on her toes to kiss him.  Gold opened his mouth for her, his free hand sinking into her hair as he groaned, and she let her tongue stroke his, pushing his coat open and pressing herself against him.

The feel of his body on hers was arousing, lean and hard where she was soft and yielding.  She plucked open the buttons of his suit jacket and the waistcoat beneath, pushing the fine wool apart as her tongue teased his soft mouth.  His lips slid against hers, a low hum of pleasure coming from him, and Lacey ran her hands over his chest, feeling the firm muscles and the gentle furrows of his ribs beneath her fingertips, his skin hot through the blood-red silk of his shirt.

His hand twisted in her hair, a low growl rumbling up through his chest, and she pushed at him, shoving him back against the wall as the kiss deepened, their lips slippery with saliva.  Fresh stubble was scraping her chin, and she moaned, feeling herself grow wet as his thigh slipped between her legs and pressed up against her.  His tongue teased hers, the taste of his mouth at once salty and sweet, and she slid her hands up his shoulders to push through his hair.  Gold dropped his cane, and she heard it clatter to the floor as his other arm went around her waist, tugging her close, his firm thigh muscles rubbing against her groin and making her gasp into his mouth.  She squeezed his leg with hers, wanting to feel more of him, wanting him to push his fingers into her and make her come.  Wanting him inside her.  One hand slid up to cup her breast, and he pulled his mouth from hers, his breath hot on her ear.

“What do you want, Lacey?” he rasped.  “Do you want me to touch you?”

She moaned something unintelligible, and he tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.

“I could do that,” he whispered.  “Reach up between those beautiful legs of yours, where I know you’re so wonderfully wet.  Finger you until you scream.  Would you like that?”

 _“Gold!”_ she moaned, closing her eyes, and he drew his tongue across her pulse point, making her shiver.

“Or I could lick you,” he breathed.  “Spread you out on the bed and taste how sweet you are.  Make you come and drink you down.”  He let out another hum of pleasure, making her shudder.

“Yes,” he whispered, and swirled his tongue against her skin in slow circles before teasing her ear again.  “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

 _“Fuck!”_ she gasped, and she heard his low chuckle.

“Or there’s that, too,” he said lazily.  “Is that what you want, Lacey?  You want me to fuck you?  We could do all of that, you know.  We could do everything.”

 _So, he thinks he’s in charge again this time, does he?_ Lacey grinned to herself, rubbing against his leg, and pushed the overcoat from his shoulders.  Gold released her for a moment to shrug it off and throw it at the couch, and then his hands were on her again, running over the curves of her hips and cupping her breasts.  Lacey bent her head to kiss his neck, feeling the rasp of new stubble against her tongue and hearing his groan as she licked at him.  One hand slid between his legs, and his groan became a gasp as she cupped him, feeling the hard length of his cock against her palm.  His response made her grin.

“Bedroom,” she murmured, and pushed back from him, grabbing his hand and pulling her with him.

Gold braced himself against the walls as they went, limping, and she wondered if she should have stopped to grab his cane.  Thankfully it was only a short distance to her bedroom, and she kicked the door shut behind them to keep the kittens out, turning to peel off her shirt and throw it aside.  The window was open, letting in the cold air, and the room was cool and fresh, making her shiver a little.  She flicked on one of the lamps, a soft glow pouring out and painting shadows in the corners.  He was watching her, his chest heaving, the low light gleaming on his cheekbones and making the shadows beneath deeper and darker, his eyes points of gold in their black pits, and she tugged open his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders.  The waistcoat hit the floor next, and her hands dropped to his belt, tugging it open as he reached behind her to unhook her bra.  He got the clasp caught, and flailed at it for a moment before she pulled back to do it herself, throwing the bra aside and shimmying out of her skirt.  He had unfastened his cuffs, and she went to work on his tie, wondering why the hell he had to wear so many layers.  Not that he didn’t look bloody good, but it didn’t help a girl when she was horny.

She kissed him again, drawing the silk tie from around his neck, and her fingers plucked at the buttons of his shirt, sliding inside over hot skin.  Gold groaned, reaching down to cup her rear, and she opened up the shirt, pushing her breasts against his chest and feeling the heat of his body.  She kissed down his neck, feeling his head roll back as she ran her tongue over his skin, dipping into the hollow at the base of his throat.  He fumbled at the fly of his pants, his tongue teasing hers, and she slipped her hands out of his shirt, sliding down to push the pants over his hips.  He shrugged out of the shirt, letting it flutter to the floor in a wave of crimson.  Stepping forward, she pushed at him, making him move backwards until he sat down hard on the bed, and she dropped down onto her heels, unlacing his shoes and pulling them off, followed by socks, pants and underwear.

Gold lay back on the bed, his heart thumping and his breath hard in his chest.  Being naked in her room within ten minutes of entering the apartment certainly wasn’t what he had planned, but he wasn’t about to complain.  Lacey seemed to want to take the lead, and he was content to let her, merely shifting his body a little until his head was against the pillows and waiting as she peeled off her tights and underwear.  He watched as she walked naked to the nightstand, digging in it for a couple of condoms and throwing them onto the bed before climbing on next to him and draping herself over him.  Her mouth reached for his, hot and hungry, and he took her in his arms, kissing her deeply.

He rolled, pinning her beneath him, his tongue slipping into her mouth and stroking against hers, and Lacey moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.  Gold slid one hand down over her hip, reaching in between her legs and feeling the heat and softness of her tender skin.  He probed with a finger, releasing a tiny rush of warm wetness against his hand, and stroked gently, the finger slipping inside her.  Lacey arched her body with a gasp, a moan coming from her, and he moved his hips a little, rubbing his cock against her thigh, aching to be inside her.  His thumb swept over her swollen clit, and she let out a cry, pulling her mouth from his, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

Lacey pushed at him, rolling him onto his back, and Gold slipped his fingers from her as she moved away to grab one of the condoms.  She knelt up, tearing open the packet with her teeth, and locked eyes with him as she took him in hand, rolling the condom onto him.  His eyes closed, a low groan coming from him at her touch, and she straddled him, bracing herself with the flat of her hand as she guided him inside.  Gold arched his back, pushing up inside her with a groan as she sank down onto him, and Lacey almost purred at the feel of him inside her.

“Fuck, you feel good!” she breathed.  “You ready?”

Gold blinked.  “Ready?”

She began to move, sliding back and forth, rocking against him, and he groaned, his hands moving to grasp her hips and pull her tighter.  She slid her hands up over his belly, feeling the line of his ribs, her fingertips brushing over the peaks of his nipples.  Gold let out a growl of pleasure, and she rubbed at him, her thumbs circling over the taut flesh.  She pinched his nipples between thumbs and forefingers, and he growled again, his eyes flicking open to fix on hers, the irises almost black.

“Careful, my sweet,” he rasped.  “Unless you want me to return the favour.”

She felt a shiver go through her at his words, at the dark promise in them, and quickened her pace a little, making him grit his teeth.  Gold’s head rolled back against the pillows as he groaned, his hips pushing upwards to meet her, and she gasped as she rubbed against him, her own fluids and the coarse hair of his groin producing a delightful friction.  She kept up her rhythm, feeling the sensations building, working herself up to climax.  His hands slid up to cup her breasts, gently squeezing as she rode him, and Lacey moaned as he pinched at her nipples, rubbing at them with his thumbs and sending jolts of sensation through her.  Sweat was forming on her skin, dampening her brow and upper lip, making her inner thighs slippery where she slid against him, and she could feel him pushing in and out as she moved, the thickness of his cock deep inside her, the rasp of his hair against her tender skin.  She could feel that she was close, and she moaned again, quickening her pace a little, her hips rolling and bucking as she neared her peak.

Lacey threw back her head with a loud cry as her orgasm hit, a wave of pleasure breaking through her, her heart thumping and her vision darkening as she came.  Her cry faded to tiny, rhythmic affirmations as she rode it out, and when she opened her eyes Gold was staring at her wide-eyed, panting for breath as he bucked his hips against her to increase the sensations.  Lacey slowed her pace a little, gasping as tingling ripples of pleasure continued to wash over her skin.  His hands dropped to her hips, gently squeezing as she stopped moving with a whoosh of air from her lungs.  She licked sweat from her lip, leaving it wet, and Gold’s eyes followed the path of her tongue.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s good!” she gasped.  “Your turn.”

“Catch your breath,” he said quietly, and she shot him a grin, waggling her eyebrows.

“I’m okay, Gold,” she said.  “Hang onto something, okay?”  

His answering grin was wicked, and he squeezed her hips again as she began to move.  Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, their bodies hot and damp, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of him inside her, on the hard length of him rubbing against her.  She settled into a rhythm, her flesh pulling at him, sliding against him, and Gold groaned, his head rolling back, the tendons in his neck standing out as he gritted his teeth.  He was hardening further within her, his cock thick and rigid, and she quickened her movements, sensing that he was close, his eyes closed and breathing shallow as he thrust up inside her.

She braced her hands on his belly, her fingers splaying outwards to give her more balance, and leaned forward a little, letting him slip out almost all the way before thrusting back, the sensations building within her again as she rubbed against him.  Gold arched his back as he came with a loud, groaning cry, his head pressing back into the pillows.  She moaned as she felt him pulse inside her, the feel of it almost sending her over the edge again.  His body jerked, his hips bucking as he squirted up inside her, and his hands gripped her hips, pulling her close against him to increase the friction as he continued to let out rhythmic groans of pleasure.

Eventually his movements slowed, and Lacey fell forward a little, gasping for breath as he began to soften inside her.  Strands of hair were sticking to her damp cheeks and shoulders, and she brushed them away impatiently as she tried to steady her breathing.

“Wow,” she said, with feeling, and heard his soft chuckle.

“Indeed.”

Gold lay in silence for a moment, listening to the ragged sounds of their breathing.  His body was still tingling, electricity running through him from the power of his orgasm, and Lacey was straddling him with her head bent and her hands on his belly as she tried to recover.  He was shrinking inside her, and he reached down between them to grasp the base of the condom before he slipped from her, soft and wet and sated.  Lacey raised her head, locking eyes with him, and he thought how beautiful she looked, her blue eyes dark with lust and her cheeks flushed pink and sticky with perspiration.  He wanted to taste her kiss again.

Gold sat up, one hand reaching up to cup her cheek, feeling the heat of her damp skin as his mouth reached for hers.  His other arm went around her waist, pulling her tight against him, and Lacey moaned into his mouth as his tongue stroked against hers.  He could taste salt on her lips, and he pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck, one hand sliding down her body to reach between her legs.  His fingers dipped into hot flesh almost dripping with her fluids, and he growled in appreciation as he stroked her.  Lacey moaned, rising up a little on her knees as his fingers pushed into her.

“God, you’re _soaking_ , sweetheart!” he breathed.  “All this honey, all for me.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over her clit, spreading her fluids, rubbing in slow circles, and she moaned again, rocking her hips back and forth and letting his fingers slide in and out of her.  His arm tightened around her, and he ran his tongue up her throat as her head rolled back, tasting the sharp salt on her skin, breathing in the heady scent of her arousal.  Her breasts pushed against his chest, her fingers dragging through his hair as he worked her, the feel of her nails on his scalp a sharp, exquisite pain.  Cold air from the open window wafted over his hot skin, making him shiver, and he felt an answering ripple of goosebumps spread across her naked back.  Her breathing was heavy, her moans growing in pitch as he rubbed and thrust, and he tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.

“Come for me, Lacey,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.  “I want to feel it running down my fingers.  I want to suck the taste of you from my skin.”

Her moans grew higher, her hands twisting in his hair, her nails digging into his scalp, and she came with a loud wail, clenching around his fingers, hot fluid leaking into his palm.  He growled in pleasure as he rubbed at her, as her body jerked against his, her limbs growing loose and heavy as she fell forward against his chest.  She twined her arms around his neck, her breath shuddering from her lungs, and he carefully drew his fingers out of her, sitting back a little to slip them into his mouth and suck off her salty juices.

Lacey put her hands on his shoulders, pushing back to meet his eyes as she tried to catch her breath.  He was still licking the taste of her from those long fingers of his, a wicked glint in his eyes, and her scent was heavy in the air around them.  He gave a final suck to the tip of his thumb, and let the hand fall to his side, fingers splaying on the bedclothes as he relaxed back.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and she nodded.

She wanted to tell him how mind-blowing the sex had been, but she couldn’t seem to form the words.  Besides, the bastard looked smug as hell, sitting there with a twisted little smirk on his face.  She was pretty sure he knew.

“You brought wine, right?” she asked instead, and he nodded.  “Want a glass?”

“I’d love one.”

She pushed up off him, slipping from the bed onto legs that wobbled slightly.  His discarded shirt was on the floor, and so she drew it on, fastening a few of the buttons.  She could just as easily have reached for her towelling bathrobe, but she liked the cool feel of the silk against her hot skin.  Besides, it smelt of him, rich and warm and somehow erotic.  She could feel his eyes on her as she left the room, and she grinned to herself, her skin still singing from his touch.  Opening the bedroom door revealed all three kittens sitting just outside, watching her with curious green eyes, and she sighed and shook her head at them.

“Bloody voyeurs,” she muttered.

She snuck into the bathroom to clean up, washing her hands in the sink and grinning inanely at her reflection in the mirror.  Her hair was a mess, curls sticking to her neck and tangled from where his hands had twisted in them.  Her lips were deep red from the pressure of his mouth, her cheeks flushed, and she looked as though she had been well and truly fucked into oblivion.  Her grin widened.

She heard him moving around in the bedroom, and supposed he would want the bathroom too when she was done, so she dried her hands and trotted into the kitchen.  There was wine in the bag he had brought: two bottles, in fact, and some chocolates, and even a box of that fancy gourmet cat food that came in little foil trays.

“Guess we all get a treat,” she said to the kittens, who were getting under her feet.  “You guys can share one of these, okay?”

She portioned out the food into their bowls, listening with half an ear as Gold went to the bathroom.  Once the kittens were eating, she opened one of the bottles of wine and poured two glasses, carrying them into the bedroom just as Gold returned from the bathroom, still bracing himself against the wall to keep his balance.

“Oh, wait, let me.”

She hurried to put down the glasses, and ran back to snatch up his cane from the floor of the lounge.  He nodded his thanks, grounding it under him, and she watched as he made his way back to the bed, his gait more even now that he had some support.  He slipped beneath the covers, sitting up against the pillows and brushing his hair out of his face with one hand.  It had started to rain outside, a light, distant thunder of raindrops on the road.  The sun had set, the sky a deep blue, broken only by the glow from the nearby streetlights.

“So,” said Lacey, handing him his glass.  “I believe you were about to apologise, before I rudely interrupted you by jumping your ass.”

Gold’s mouth pulled upwards in one corner.

“Well, you won’t hear any complaints from me,” he said.

He patted the bed next to him, and Lacey climbed on, sitting back against the pillows and drawing up her pale knees.  She tugged the blankets over herself and took a sip of the wine, enjoying the smooth taste of it on her tongue.  Gold had washed his hands, the scent of the liquid soap in her bathroom still clinging to his skin, and she looked across at him.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

Gold shot her a wry look, and took a drink.

“I was trying to help,” he said finally.  “But - I will admit that you gave me a perspective I hadn’t considered.”

Lacey snorted.  “Mine, you mean?”

“As I said,” he went on.  “I hadn’t thought about how you might want to handle things.  I’m sorry, Lacey.  I honestly thought I was helping you.”

She shrugged, taking another drink.

“I guess you meant well,” she admitted.  “I had to put up with my dad’s gross comments on what I had to do to get you to pay up, though.  Plus the court clerk being a dick.”

Gold frowned.  “If your father’s bothering you…”

Lacey sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Forget it.”

“I’m serious, if he’s…”

“Just leave it, Gold,” she said wearily.  “Pretty sure I’m already burning my bridges with him, I don’t need you throwing gasoline all over the whole flaming mess.”

“So my breaking the window of his van didn’t help either, then?”

“Doubt it.”

There was silence for a moment, but for the sound of the rain drumming on the ground and spattering against the window.

“Has he always been that way?” asked Gold.  “Did you - did you ever have a good relationship?”

Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“I guess he wasn’t so bad when I was little,” she said finally.  “When Mum was alive, I mean.  And maybe for a year or two after that.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, he was already drinking, but he tried to hide it.  It wasn’t until I was twelve or so that he got really bad.”

“Was there a catalyst?” he asked, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Looking back it was probably when I told him to fuck off for the first time,” she said, in an offhand tone, and he chuckled.

“Yes, i can see why he wouldn’t like that too much.  I very much doubt that was the cause, though.”

“Don’t know,” she said moodily.  “Not like he’d tell me his darkest fears, or anything.  Maybe he’s just a dick.”

“Maybe so.”

There was more silence, and Lacey took a gulp of her wine.  A part of her wanted to talk more about her upbringing.  It would almost be a relief, given how long she had bottled things up.  It would have been cathartic to finally let some of it out: the way her relationship with her father had deteriorated to the point when they could barely be in the same room without yelling.  The way her skirts had gotten shorter and her nights out later the more he had tried to control what she did.  The bitter disappointment in her that he had never tried to hide, and the way she, in her stubborn rebellious way, had only made things worse.

She wanted to talk about her latest pain: about the time her father bought the van, and how he first offered to pay for it with her body, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull the thoughts from her mind and lay them out before him in all their painful, soul-crushing reality.  It wasn’t that she thought that Gold would spill her secrets, given how long he’d kept that little tidbit to himself, but she doubted he was interested in hearing her tales of woe.  Especially not when that he was so closed-off about his own past.  Besides, she barely knew him.  Banging the guy didn’t make him her therapist, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to let him see her vulnerability.  It might have been nice, though, to let someone in.  For both of them to let down their guard, just for a moment.  Just for a night.

Her thoughts made her sad, and then cross with herself because of it, and she took another swallow of wine, feeling the silence between them grow thick and uneasy.  To his credit, Gold tried to break it.

“I meant it when I said you didn’t have to pay me back,” he said, his voice seeming loud in the heavy atmosphere.  “It wasn’t a loan, so don’t worry about that.”

“I’m not worrying,” she lied.  “You decided to pay the bastard, it wasn’t my idea.”

“Good.”  He took a drink.  “So hopefully that means you won’t have to work so hard.”

Lacey sighed, stretching her legs out beneath the covers.

“Yeah, but I will,” she said gloomily.  “There’s always some emergency, right?  I should try to put something aside for if I get sick.”

“Don’t you have insurance?” he asked, and she shot him a look.

“Yeah, which will pay the doctors if I end up in the hospital,” she said witheringly.  “It doesn’t pay the rent or buy me food if I can’t work, though.  The service industry’s a bitch, and minimum wage sucks.”

“So get something else,” he suggested, as though it were easy.  “You’re young.  Intelligent.  Surely there’s something less exhausting you could do for better money.”

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Look, Mr Gold-fucking-cufflinks-owns-his-own-home-drives-a-fucking-Caddy!” she snapped.  “Do you think I’d be working there if I had a bloody choice?  I’m not exactly qualified for anything better!”

“I don’t believe that,” he said calmly.  “There must be something.”

“Yeah, well not on a Thursday evening when I’m mostly naked,” she muttered.

“I wasn’t suggesting now…”

“And I’m doing fine on my own,” she added, cutting him off.  “I don’t need you to try to organise my life, okay?”

His mouth flattened.

“I’m not,” he said, his tone cold.  “I merely thought that, given your energy and obvious intelligence, you might have ambitions beyond serving steaks and pulling beers.”

She glared at him.

“What, because there’s something _wrong_ with that?”

“Of course not,” he said sharply.  “I didn’t mean that, I just don’t understand why you’d cling to it like you’re incapable of anything better.”

“Because it’s all I _have_ !” she said, waving an arm in the direction of the diner.  “It’s all I _am_ , don’t you get that?  I’m the girl who never went to college because her father couldn’t be fucking _bothered_ to put money aside for it, and who had to work because she left home at seventeen!  I’m the girl who can only get crappy minimum wage stuff because - because I don’t know how to do anything else!”

“Lacey…”

He sounded weary, and she suspected he was.  Weary of her complaining.  To be honest she was annoying herself.  The worst of it was, she knew he was right.  She knew she was capable of better; it wasn’t as though she was stupid.  Just too tired to try to change things, most days.  She couldn’t decide who she was more irritated with: herself for not trying to get something better, or him for pointing it out.

The silence descended again, and she drained her glass, setting it aside.  She wanted to try to explain herself, but words were sticking in her throat, a painful lump.  Her hands plucked awkwardly at the bedclothes, the blue cotton wrinkling between her fingers as she tried to think of something to say.  There was a cold, muted clink as Gold put down his own glass.

“I should probably go,” he said quietly.  “I’m sure you have things you’d rather be doing this evening.”

Lacey nodded, not looking at him.

“Yeah,” she said thickly.  “Got an early start in the morning.”

She didn’t really want him to go, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to make him stay, either, and so she shrugged off the shirt, handing it to him without a word.  There were flashes of colour in the corner of her eye as he got out of bed and dressed, the warmth of his skin and the deep red of his shirt.  The rich black of his suit pants as he pulled them on.  She heard the rasp of his zipper and the clink of his belt buckle, and finally the tap of his cane as he stood.  The rain had grown heavier, the distant rumble of thunder suggesting worse was to come, and she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“I - er…”  He cut off, and she looked up in time to see him run a hand through his hair, a frustrated grimace twisting his mouth.  “I - imagine I’ll see you.  At some point.”

“Your wine’s in the kitchen,” she said, and he sent her a brief smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I brought the wine and chocolates for you,” he said.  “Keep them.”

He looked as though he was going to say something else, his hands opening and closing on the cane handle, but he simply nodded to her and walked out, and she heard him in the lounge grabbing his overcoat.  The front door opened and closed a moment later, and she sighed to herself as she heard him go down the stairs.  Mind-blowing sex followed by awkwardness.  Apparently that was their thing.


	12. We Talk In Useless Metaphors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey and Gold had mind-blowing sex, and somehow managed to fuck it up afterwards by speaking.

Lacey was awake for a long time that night, lying in bed with her arms behind her head, listening to the driving rain and running over the events of the evening in her mind.  She was in the wrong, and she knew it.  Which meant she would have to apologise.  She didn’t mind that, but she wished it hadn’t become necessary in the first place.  That she wasn’t so bloody defensive with him all the time.  She sighed, stretching and pointing her toes, and scratched Minerva’s ears.  It would be better to get it out of the way as soon as possible, so she planned to go over at around one, after she had finished her errands for the day and before her shift started at two.  If he told her in no uncertain terms to piss off, at least that would give her time to calm down before she had to paint on a smile and serve coffees.  Decision made, she snuggled down, pulling the kittens closer.  Maybe it would be okay.  Maybe he’d understand.

* * *

The rain had stopped during the night, and the day dawned bright and cold.  The wind was from the north, cutting through the little coat Lacey wore and chilling her bare legs.  She was wearing white cotton ankle socks and black heels beneath the usual diner uniform, her hair tied up on her head and a dark lipstick staining her mouth.  It was Friday, which meant happy hour and a late night, but hopefully the tips would be good.  She hadn’t been kidding when she told Gold she wanted to start putting some cash aside for emergencies.

She crossed the street, jumping back with a curse as a car sped past her, the blare of a horn cutting through the quiet afternoon.  Lacey glared after it as the car - a sleek forest green Mercedes - tore around the nearest corner.

“You’re speeding, asshole!” she shouted, well aware that the driver would never hear her.

Squaring her shoulders, she continued on her way again, crossing over and walking down the street to Gold’s shop.  She hesitated outside, glancing up at the sign.   _Mr Gold.  Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer_.  Lacey pursed her lips.   _Maybe I should get a Sharpie and write ‘goes down better than the setting sun’ underneath_ , she thought, and giggled to herself.

She couldn’t see him in the shop, but the sign said _Open_ , and so she pushed open the door and walked in, the bell tinkling above her head.  Her heels clicked on the floor, and for a moment there was silence, but then the curtain that led to the back room was pushed aside and Gold walked out, lamplight gleaming on his hair and the long length of his cane.  He was wearing a charcoal grey suit and a shirt in fuchsia silk with a black tie, and the colour suited him, bringing out the warm tones in his skin and the soft sweeps of his hair.  He stopped dead when he saw her, leaning back a little, and nodded.

“Lacey,” he said neutrally.  “I - wasn’t expecting you.  I thought you’d be working.”

“Shift starts at two,” she explained.  “I got the late one today.”

“Ah.”  He glanced at the floor, and back up.

“I wanted to come over,” she went on.  “I - look, things ended weird last night, and I wanted to fix it.”

“I see.”

He was silent, waiting, and it was making her nervous.  She decided to just go for it.

“So,” she said, shifting from one foot to another.  “Um - sorry I was a bitch?”

Gold’s mouth twitched, as though he was amused and trying not to show it.

“I must have missed that part.”

“No, I _was_ ,” she insisted, throwing up her hands.  “I know you were only trying to help, it’s just…”

She shrugged, feeling awkward.

“Just what?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know.”  She folded her arms across herself, still shifting her feet.  “Maybe no one _can_ help.  Maybe there’s no point.  Maybe I’m just a bloody loser destined to work crappy jobs until I die.”

“I don’t believe that.”

His voice was calm, and somehow reassuring, and Lacey shrugged uncomfortably.

“I don’t want to talk about it, anyway,” she said.

“Alright.”

There was silence again.  Clocks ticked quietly from their spaces on the walls, and Lacey felt like squirming.  She raised her head, meeting his eyes.  He was watching her calmly, and she got the feeling he was waiting for her to speak, to set the pace of their interaction.  She wished she knew what to say.

“Great sex, by the way,” she blurted, and wanted to clap her hand over her mouth.  Gold grinned widely, gold tooth gleaming.

“Yes, it was.”

“I mean - I mean _really_ great,” she added, blushing a little.  “Both times.  You’re a generous guy, you know that?”

“My other tenants would disagree with you,” he said, looking amused.

“Yeah, well I guess your other tenants never experienced one of Mr Gold’s mind-blowing orgasms,” she said, and he chuckled.

“Indeed not.”

“Their loss,” she said, and he grinned again, raising an eyebrow.

“I could be generous again, if you like.”

Lacey blinked.

“What - now?”

“Why not?”

“Why…”  She looked around the shop.  “Aren’t you open for business, or something?”

“You said yourself that no one ever comes in here,” he said.

“I - guess.”

“Well then.”

Lacey stared at him.  He still had a tiny smile on his face, his eyes gleaming darkly.

“You didn’t get enough last night?” she asked finally, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Not nearly enough,” he said softly.  “And besides, you’re looking good enough to eat.  I’m feeling rather hungry.”

His voice made her shiver, his accent thickening just enough to roughen it, to fill it with promise.

“I have to be at the diner for two,” she said, and he inclined his head.

“Oh, I think we can manage that.”

He was still watching her, the deep fuchsia silk of his shirt gleaming in the light, and she felt that familiar lurch in her belly, the pull of desire.  She licked her lips.

“Okay.”

Gold’s smile widened briefly, and then he strode past her to the shop door.  He flipped the sign hanging there to _Closed_ , and when he turned back to face her there was a wicked light in his eyes.

“Miss French,” he said softly.  “Would you like to come in the back room with me?”

Lacey snickered.  “Nice double entendre.”

“I thought so.”  His fingers flexed over the cane handle, and he glanced down.  “I could make a salacious comment about grasping the wood between my legs, if you like.”

“Gold…”

She pulled a face at him, but she was grinning, and his eyes were twinkling.  He walked towards her, the cane tapping on the floor, and she gestured at it.

“Want me to say something about the impressive length of your shaft?” she asked, and he showed his teeth.

“It’s almost like having an extra leg,” he said, and she giggled.

“Nice to see a man who knows how to use it.”

Gold inclined his head.

“It’s all in the wrist action.”

“Stop it!”

He was still chuckling as he pushed the curtain aside, and she ducked through after him, excitement building in her as he turned to face her.  He had a smirk on his face, his eyes glinting, and she stepped up to him, sliding her hands up his chest.

“So?” she asked.  “How do you want me?”

His grin widened, and he leaned a little closer, so that she could feel the coolness of his breath against her lips.

“Turn around,” he whispered.

Heart thumping, she turned her back to him, licking her lips.

“Hands on the bench,” he said silkily.

Lacey bent forwards a little, her hands splaying on the smooth wood of the workbench.  She sucked in a breath as he stepped up behind her, and the gold handle of his cane gleamed as he laid it across the bench in front of her.  She felt his hands on her hips, stroking over her curves and sliding down her thighs before pushing up beneath the little skirt she wore and flipping it up to her waist.  He let out a rumbling noise of approval, stroking his hands over the swell of her buttocks, and Lacey shivered.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.  “But this little lace thong is hardly appropriate.  I think I should take it off, what do you say?”

Lacey bit her lip, her breath quickening.  She felt his thumbs then, hooking under the sides of the thong, drawing it over her hips and down her thighs.  It fell past her knees, catching on the straps of her shoes, and Lacey lifted her feet one by one, kicking it off.  His hands gripped her hips, fingers gently stroking, and she felt him bend closer, the heat from his body flowing over her.

“Touch me!” she whispered, and heard him tut softly.

“Patience, my dear.”

His hands left her, and she heard the rustle of clothing.  His jacket was laid on the bench, and he picked up the cane again.  She heard a tap as the end of it hit the floor, and then gasped at the cold feel of it between her ankles.  Gold drew it slowly up between her legs, the handle cold against her skin as it passed her knees.  She shivered as his lips brushed her ear.

“Open your legs,” he whispered, and Lacey swallowed hard, inching her feet apart.

The cane slid higher, up between her thighs, and she inhaled sharply as cold metal touched the hot flesh at the apex.

“Holy fucking _shit_!” she whispered, and moaned as his teeth tugged at her earlobe.

Gold’s hand slid around her hip, dipping in between her legs and releasing slippery fluids.  Lacey moaned again, pushing herself against his hand, a hiss of breath escaping her as the cane pressed against her again.  She felt Gold’s fingers sliding over the head and up and down the shaft, spreading her juices, and then the cane turned, pulled back between her legs so that the handle was pressed against her mound.  There was pressure against her clit, and she let out a tiny cry as the end of the handle rubbed at her, sliding through wet flesh.

“Oh my _God_!” she moaned, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks, a tingle running through her, and heard a chuckle from him.

“How is that, Miss French?” he murmured.  “Would you like more?  Something long and hard, sliding up inside you?”

Lacey giggled.

“You’re a dirty bastard, Gold.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“Makes me wish I’d come over earlier,” she added.  “You could have been even dirtier, right?”

He leaned close, his mouth on her ear, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed against her skin, his breath hot.

“Bite your fucking tongue,” he whispered.

She moaned as the smooth shaft of the cane slipped against her, running over tender flesh, the handle sending jolts of sensation through her whenever it touched her clit.  She could feel her breath quickening, her heart thumping, heat rising up through her.  The cane handle moved, sliding down through her folds and pressing upwards, and Lacey groaned as it slid inside her.  Gold’s fingers dipped back in between her legs, flickering over her clit, and she let out a tiny cry.  He pressed up against her, the heat of his skin almost burning her through the thin silk of his shirt, and she shivered as his lips brushed her ear.

“I’m going to make you come, Lacey,” he breathed.  “I’m going to make you come and then lay you back on this bench and taste how sweet you are.  I want to see your cum run down my cane so that _every time_ I use it I can remember it being inside you.”

 _“Gold!”_ she moaned, and shuddered as he drew his tongue up her neck.

“So that I can remember the sounds you make when I touch you,” he growled, his voice low and rough.  “So that I can remember how good it feels to _fuck_ you.”

“Oh my God…”

She moaned as the cane handle slid in and out of her, his fingers stroking and rubbing.  Her body was shaking, her muscles tensing, perspiration blooming on her upper lip, and his fingers were flickering and sliding, the cane pushing and thrusting.  She whimpered as she felt her climax approach, the tightness in her body almost too much, and then waves of pleasure washed over her as she broke with a loud cry, lights bursting behind her eyes.  Gold growled in approval, still stroking as her hips bucked against his hand, her flesh gripping the cane handle inside her.

Lacey slowed, gasping for breath, her arms a little unsteady as she leaned on the bench, her body tingling with pleasure.  Gold pressed a kiss to her neck, and slowly pulled the cane handle from her with a soft, wet sound, moving it out from between her legs.

“Turn around,” he said quietly.

Lacey turned on legs that shook slightly, leaning back against the bench for support.  He was watching her with a dark light in his eyes and a satisfied smirk twisting his mouth.  He held up the cane, its handle and the top of its shaft glistening with whitish fluid, and Lacey locked eyes with him as he drew a pink tongue along it, slipping the handle into his mouth with a low, contented murmur.  She licked her lips, still trying to catch her breath, and Gold drew out the handle and smiled.

“Up on the bench,” he said.  “Lie back.”

Heart thumping her chest, Lacey boosted herself up onto the bench with the heels of her hands, lying back.  She started a little at the feel of his hands on her thighs, sliding up, and Gold growled something under his breath as he pushed the skirt up around her waist again, exposing her.

“How wet you are, sweetheart,” he whispered.  “You look delicious.”

He ran his hands up between her thighs, his thumbs gently pressing against the soft skin of her outer lips and pulling them apart.  He let out a growl of pleasure, and Lacey moaned as he bent his head to her, his tongue stroking through her flesh.  She slipped her legs over his shoulders, the lacy edges of her socks brushing his ears, and arched her back, her fingers carding his hair as he licked at her.  His tongue was soft and wet, swirling against her, and she let out tiny, rhythmic moans as she felt the pleasure building in her again, her clit already swollen and sensitive from his attentions.

“Oh, Lacey!” he breathed.  “You taste so good!”

She arched upwards, fingers twisting in his hair, her breath whistling out through her lungs as he licked her.  Strands of his hair, damp and sticky from her juices, were clinging to her skin, his nose rubbing against her tender flesh, and she moaned as she felt another climax approaching.  Gold slipped a finger inside her, pushing deep and crooking upwards, and she came with a wail, her hips jerking as he sucked the cum from her with a low growl of pleasure.

Lacey fell back against the bench, the wood a solid, pleasant feel against her body.  He was kissing his way over her inner thighs, his hands gently stroking over her skin, and she sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself.  He pushed himself up on his hands, arms braced on the bench either side of her body, and grinned down at her.  The ends of his hair were sticky, his face warm and damp with her juices, and that smug little smile was back.  She pushed herself up on her elbows, and licked her lips.

“Guess it’s your turn,” she said, not bothering to tell him how amazing he had been.  She figured the bastard knew.

His grin widened, and he straightened up, glancing behind him briefly before holding out a hand to her and pulling her upright.  Lacey slipped to the floor, smoothing her hands over her hips and reaching for her bag, in which she knew there were a couple of condoms.  He had sat down on a stool, his hands tugging at his belt to open it, and she straddled him, tearing open the condom packet and reaching down between them.  Gold got his belt and fly open, taking the condom from her to roll it on, and Lacey shifted closer, sinking down onto him as he pushed up inside her with a groan.

She was pressed up against him, hands sliding over the deep pink silk and up into his hair, and she rose up on her toes before falling back, rocking against him, her flesh gripping him tightly as he moved inside her.  Gold kissed her, soft lips pulling at hers and the taste of her salt on his tongue, and she moaned into his mouth, her movements quickening, his cock thrusting in and out of her.  His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer, tighter, and he broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her throat as he tugged her back and forth, groaning in pleasure.  She licked her lips a little nervously, wondering if she should say something.  If it would turn him on as much as he turned her on.  She leaned forwards, putting her mouth to his ear.

“You feel so good,” she whispered.  “All hard and thick inside me.”

He groaned in response.  Encouraged, she kissed his ear, her tongue flickering out to touch him.

“I want to feel you come,” she said softly.  “I want you to squirt right up inside me.”

 _“Fuck!”_ he gasped, and she grinned, feeling him quicken their pace.

“Come for me, Gold,” she breathed.

He thrust up inside her with a cry, his cock pulsing.  Lacey bucked against him, moaning in time with him as she rode it out.  Her movements slowed as she felt his body grow loose, his head rolling back a little as a deep, contented sigh left his lungs.  She grinned to herself, and kissed his damp forehead.  Gold looked up, giving her a lazy, heavy-lidded smile.

“Well, well,” he said softly, and she snickered.

“Yeah.”

They kissed briefly, their mouths hot and wet, and she drew back and patted his shoulder.

“I should get to work,” she said regretfully, and he nodded, reaching between them to grasp the condom.

Lacey spied her thong on the floor, and stepped into it, pulling it up.  The lace chafed pleasantly against her tender skin, and she grinned as she turned to him.  Gold had buckled his belt and shrugged on his jacket, and she watched as he buttoned it with quick flicks of his fingers and grasped his cane.  He was eyeing her with an expression that she couldn’t quite interpret: a tiny smile and faint hunger in his eyes, and so she turned away, pulling on her jacket and snatching up her bag.  She would need to reapply her lipstick and fix her hair, but otherwise no one would know that she had spent the past forty minutes or so being pleasured by the town’s landlord.  She grinned at him as she turned, and he gave her a tiny bow, reaching for the curtain and pulling it apart to let her duck through into the main room of the shop.

Lacey pulled up short, her heart thumping high in her throat as she saw that they were not alone.  A woman stood there, the same woman that had been so rude to her in the diner, and on the street.  She was tapping her foot, a sheaf of papers in one green-gloved hand and a gleam of anger in her eyes.

“Well,” she drawled.  “Thank goodness for that, I thought you were _never_ going to finish.”

Lacey noticed Gold stiffen, his shoulders dropping and his head lifting.

“Miss Green,” he said evenly.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Miss Green shrugged languidly, her full mouth twisting.

“I brought the signed contract,” she said, dropping the sheaf of papers on the counter.  “I have to say I wasn’t expecting to be subjected to something quite so sordid.”

“I see that your powers of observation don’t extend to a _Closed_ sign,” he remarked.

“Well, I heard noises,” she said carelessly.  “Can’t blame a girl for being curious.”

”Okay, so now you know what was going on,” said Lacey.  “How about you give us some privacy?”

Miss Green looked her up and down, upper lip curling, but said nothing.  She turned back to Gold with a toss of her reddish-blonde curls.

“Honestly, I would have thought you had better taste,” she said.  “Is that _really_ how you like to spend your free time?”

“My private life is none of your business,” he said coldly, and she sniffed.

“Well, perhaps you should make your private life a little less public,” she said.  “If you really must slum it with _her_ , of course.  You should have agreed to dinner, as I suggested.  At least then you wouldn’t need to pay for the sex.”

Lacey felt as though she’d been punched.  She stared at the woman, unable to think of a response to such outright hostility.

“Get out!” snapped Gold, pointing at the door.  “Now!”

“Suit yourself.”  Miss Green sniffed.  “I’ll expect a call to finalise the contract later.  Be a good boy and wash your hands before you touch it, I know where they’ve been.”

She turned with a whirl of skirts, stomping to the door and breezing out.  The bell tinkled, loud in the silence of the shop.  Lacey blinked rapidly, trying not to cry, and jerked at the feel of Gold’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said softly, and she shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said in a dull voice.

“Of course it does.”

His hand was still there, warm and heavy, and she wanted to turn and let him take her in his arms.  She tried to think of how long it had been since she’d been hugged.  A proper, enveloping, comforting hug, with no thought of anything following it.  It was upsetting to realise that she couldn’t remember.  She pulled away from him, tugging her jacket closed.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she said, not looking at him.  “Granny’ll skin me alive if I’m late.”

That was patently untrue, but he nodded as though he believed her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “Miss Green is a client.  A client who seems to think she can break through personal boundaries with impunity.  I won’t be dealing with her again, I assure you.”

“I told you, it doesn’t matter,” she said, and stomped to the door.  “I’ll see you, okay?”

She barged out, the bell ringing plaintively, and let the door slam behind her, stepping away from the shop and dashing tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands.

* * *

Gold watched her go, anger towards Miss Green and guilt over Lacey’s hurt feelings running through his body and making him grit his teeth.  He turned his attention to the contract on the counter.  A five-year lease of warehouse premises in the docks, and a farmhouse just outside of town.  Quite why Miss Green had decided to move to Storybrooke to set up her business he was unsure, but her money was as good as anyone’s, and her proposed business - producing natural herbal teas and beauty products - would provide much-needed jobs for the townsfolk.  The fact that she made his skin crawl was the price to be paid, but if she had signed the lease, he wouldn’t have much more to do with her.

He flipped open the pages, reading through carefully to ensure that neither Miss Green nor her lawyer had changed any of the terms.  A brief phone call to his own lawyer Albert Spencer confirmed that the deposit of fifty thousand dollars was sitting in escrow, awaiting his final signature before being released.  Gold drummed his fingers on the counter.  He could use the money for an investment.  Perhaps to make some repairs to the old warehouse next to the cannery.  Or perhaps to pull the thing down with a view to putting up something more modern, if he really wanted to improve his portfolio.  A matter for another day.  First he needed to get rid of Miss Green.

He called to tell her that the contract was signed, and that she was now the leaseholder of Warehouse 6 and Yellowbrick Farm.  The tone of her voice dropped as he introduced himself, becoming sultry, and so he rang off before she could suggest another dinner date, and before he could say something he would regret.  He always tried to be polite with tenants, at least until they defaulted or tried to screw him over, but there was something about the woman that made his skin itch.  Not merely that she was so incredibly rude to the woman he was - well, whatever it was that he and Lacey were doing.  He wasn't entirely sure of that himself.

He paced his shop as he waited for her to arrive, and it was almost a relief when she breezed in with the cheerful tinkle of the bell.

“Well, Mr Gold,” she said.  “I must say it’s an absolute pleasure to see you again.”

Gold dropped the contract on the table, and she glanced at it, then back up at him.

“It’s signed,” he said coldly.  “I believe our business is concluded.”

“Hmm.”  She picked it up, slipping it into her purse.  “When can I collect the keys?”

Gold reached into his pocket, holding up two fobs with sets of keys hanging from them, and she took them from him with a smirk.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” she said.  “How about a drink?”

Gold showed his teeth.  “No thank you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Well, you turned me down for dinner,” she said.  “I thought perhaps a drink might be more your style.  Perhaps in that dreadful diner.”

“You really have a problem with the word ‘no’, don’t you?” he said, and she shrugged.

“Well, it doesn’t always _mean_ ‘no’, does it?”

Gold blinked, then looked around himself somewhat ostentatiously.

“Forgive me,” he said dryly.  “For a moment there I thought I’d stepped into a frat house.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Sometimes it can mean ‘convince me’, don’t you find?” she purred, taking a step forward.  Gold moved back smoothly, keeping the distance between them.

“Oddly enough, I take it to mean exactly what it says, and I’ll thank you to do the same.”

He kept his voice even, but disgust for the woman was making him curl his lip.

“I said no, and I meant it,” he added.  “I’d like you to leave now, please.”

“If you change your mind, you have my number,” she said airily.  “You know, should you ever get bored with trash.”

Gold smiled thinly.

“The only trash I’ve encountered this week is standing before me being grossly inappropriate,” he said coldly.  “Get out of my shop.  We’re done.”

Miss Green’s jaw worked, her pale eyes wide with anger.

“Fine,” she said, her voice stiff.  “Enjoy the little tart, won’t you?”

Gold felt his hand tighten on the handle of his cane as anger swelled within him, but he simply let the thin smile grow.

“Miss Green, I’d shake your hand,” he said pleasantly.  “But as you already said, you know where my fingers have been.  And given how sweet Miss French is, I wouldn’t want to sully them by touching you.”

Her eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and she whirled on her toes, striding from the shop in a flash of green and black.  Gold settled back on his heels with a sigh.  Hopefully that was the last he would see of her.  Now he just needed to speak to Lacey again.


	13. Turn A Blind Eye

Gold was aware that Friday night was a busy one at the diner, so he left it until late, walking along the darkened street at just after nine, when most of the dinner patrons had gone home and only a few late diners and those wanting drinks were in there.  Lacey was clearing tables and looking tired and a little harassed, so he took a seat at the bar, nodding to Ruby as she bounced up with a cheerful smile and asked him what he wanted.  He ordered a whisky, and sat there turning the glass between his fingers, hoping that Lacey would have some time to talk.

“I hear there’s a new businesswoman in town.”

Dr Whale’s voice broke through his quiet contemplation of the drink before him, and Gold turned his head slightly to see the younger man lounging against the bar to his left, a shot of something in the glass in his hand.

“News travels fast,” he said, and took a sip of his whisky.  It wasn’t great, but then it wasn’t terrible either, so he supposed that was something.

”From what I hear, she’s setting up shop and leasing that old farmhouse from you,” Whale went on.  “What’s she like?”

“I have no doubt that she’d consider a doctor to be an excellent catch, if you’re looking for a date,” said Gold dryly, and took a sip of his whisky.  “Just keep an eye on your drink if you decide to take her out.  She seems somewhat single-minded in her ambitions.  I’d hate for you to get into a situation that you hadn’t planned.”

Whale grinned, and raised his glass.

“Oh, I like a challenge,” he said, and Gold nodded to him, thinking that he was a bloody idiot.

Whale drained his glass and called to Ruby for another, pushing away from the bar, presumably to go to the bathroom.  Gold turned back to his whisky, eyeing Lacey as she wiped tables and collected glasses.  At first he wondered if she was ignoring him, but there seemed to be plenty of work to do.  Eventually she disappeared into the kitchen with a tray stacked with empties, and reappeared, brushing a stray curl of hair out of her eyes and sending him a brief smile.

“Hey,” she said, and he nodded.

“Hey.”  He held up his glass.  “Could I get another?”

She reached for the bottle, pouring him a large measure.

“I - uh - I’m sorry about earlier,” he went on, as she pushed the glass towards him.

Lacey looked a little uncomfortable, but shrugged.

“Forget about it,” she said.

“I will not,” he said calmly.  “She had no right to speak about you in that way.”

She sighed, blowing the loose strand of hair off her face with a huff of breath.

“She wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last.  Trust me, I’m used to it.”

“That’s not the point,” he insisted, and she rolled her eyes.

“Look, Gold, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t want to push things either, so he let it go.  Lacey wiped the bar with a cloth, one eye on the tables behind him.

“Would you - um…”  He cut off, unsure what to say.  “Tomorrow night.  Would you like to come over?”

“Can’t,” she said brusquely.  “Girls’ night.  Me and Ruby are going to _The Rabbit Hole_ to raise hell.  Sorry.”

“Oh.”  He ducked his head.  “Of course.  No problem.”

“Hey, can I get some service here?” called an aggrieved-looking Walter, and Lacey sighed and sauntered to the other end of the bar.  Gold watched her go, the light gleaming on her chestnut hair and pale skin.  She started to pull a beer, chatting to Walter as she did so, and he hurriedly threw back his whisky and slipped some money under the empty glass.  He was only in the way here.

Lacey watched him go, cane tapping on the floor as he made his way out with his fluid, uneven stride.  Had he just asked her on a date?  No dinner-as-pretext, an actual date?  She drummed her fingers on the counter, thinking it over.  Maybe it was just a booty-call.  His version of Netflix and chill.  Not that she thought he had Netflix.  Or a TV, come to that.  Either way it was moot.  She and Ruby didn’t often have Saturday night off together, and they had already agreed that drinks at _The Rabbit Hole_ were long overdue.  Gold would have to wait.

* * *

The next morning she had the early shift, and stomped around the diner in a foul mood due to the lack of sleep.  Granny had taken a rare day off, but the staff knew what they were doing, and Lacey carried out endless plates of bacon and eggs, pancakes and waffles, and cups of coffee.  She shot a frustrated glance at Ruby as she set Dr Whale’s morning coffee and bagel in front of him.  Ruby had been on the phone for about ten minutes, giggling and twirling her hair with two fingers, and Lacey assumed she was flirting with whoever was on the other end of the line.  She would have appreciated some help with the orders, though, and gave Walter a grateful smile when he carried over the empty plates on his way out.

“Where’s Leroy this morning?” she asked, and he snorted.

“Night shift yesterday,” he said.  “Bitched about it, too.  It’s not like I don’t work as many hours as he does, but he acts like he’s the only one who’s sleep-deprived.”

Lacey knew full well that Leroy often had to wake Walter up while they were on shift, but said nothing.  She looked around as a blast of cold air blew in from the open door, and the man himself shuffled in, looking surly, his heavy brows drawing down and his beard sprinkled with droplets of rain.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said cheerfully.  “Coffee?”

Leroy grunted something, and she grinned, whirling away to the kitchen as he took a seat at the bar.  Walter patted him on the shoulder and shrugged on his coat.

“Later,” he said, and Leroy grunted again.

Lacey turned with the coffee pot just as Ruby slipped her phone into her pocket and began clearing empty plates from one of the tables.  Setting a mug on the bar, Lacey poured coffee, and Leroy reached for it with a look of desperation that made her grin.

“That bad, huh?” she said knowingly.  “Let me know when you need another.  You want eggs and bacon?”

“God, please!” he groaned, and she chuckled.

Ruby bounced up with a wide, guileless grin, and Lacey narrowed her eyes.  She knew that look.

“I - have a favour to ask,” said Ruby.

“Go on…” said Lacey suspiciously.  “I’m guessing it has to do with whoever you were just flirting with, right?”

“Dorothy called,” said Ruby.  “And - and she’s in town today, and asked if I wanted to go over tonight…”

“Ruby!” whined Lacey, slapping her hands on the bar, and Ruby had the grace to look guilty, her smile twisting into a grimace.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” she said.  “But this is the only time she’s in town for like six weeks!  If I could do it another night, I would.  You don’t mind too much, right?”

Lacey sighed, shrugging.

“Guess not,” she grumbled.  “I’m not gonna stand in the way of you getting laid, anyway.”

“You’re awesome.”  Ruby kissed her cheek.  “I’ll make it up to you.  A night out next week.  My treat.”

“Doesn’t help with my plans for tonight,” said Lacey dryly.  “Merida’s still sick and Ashley’s still pregnant.  At this rate I’ll be home with the cats.  Where am I gonna get a wingwoman at short notice?”

“Right here.”  Leroy raised his hand, and Lacey looked at him.

“You,” she said flatly.  “You’re gonna take me out and buy too many shots and hold my hair back when I throw up?”

“Talk to me nicely I’ll even sing karaoke,” he said, taking a sip of coffee, and she giggled.

“Fine, it’s a date,” she said.  “Rabbit Hole at seven, what do you say?”

“I’m in.”

* * *

It was a little after eight, and Lacey shifted in her seat at one of the booths in _The Rabbit Hole_ , watching Leroy as he ordered another round of drinks.  The place was busy, couples chatting at the bar and the usual crowd of desperate young men crowding the pool table and eyeing the female patrons.  Lacey had rolled her eyes at more than one of them, Keith Nott included, but they had mostly left her alone when they saw she was with Leroy.  She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that she didn’t have to deal with them, or angry that it took sitting with a man to make them back off.  Either way, she decided, they were all wankers.

Leroy set down the drinks, a little sloshing over the sides of the glasses, and Lacey reached for hers eagerly.

“Thanks,” she said fervently.  “God, I needed this.  Been a hell of a week.”

“Got that right.”  He took a seat.  “I had two night shifts in a row, and Walter slept through one of them.  Work _sucks_.”

“ _Life_ sucks,” she countered, with feeling, and clinked her glass against his.  “Work, money, sex - there’s too much of the first and not enough of the others, am I right?”

Leroy chuckled.

“Still looking down on all the guys in Storybrooke?”

“Almost without exception,” she said.

Leroy took a drink, glancing around the bar.

“Yeah, well, hanging out in this dump, I’m not surprised,” he said.  “Maybe you should try looking elsewhere.”

“Like where?” she asked, uninterested, and he shrugged.

“What about David Nolan?  He’s single.”

Lacey snorted.

“Please, I think my coochie just yawned,” she drawled.

“Oh my God…”

Leroy let his head fall forwards onto his arms with a dull thump, and Lacey snickered, nudging him.

“Come on, don’t wimp out on me.”

He raised his head, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Just - have a little pity on me,” he begged, and she giggled.

“Come on!  Man up, you’re supposed to be my wingwoman for the evening.”

Leroy’s brow wrinkled.

“I’ve either had too much beer or not enough to follow that train of thought,” he remarked.

“Not enough,” she said.  “Drink up, you’re falling behind.”

Leroy took a drink, foam coating his upper lip.

“So,” he said.  “Getting back to David Nolan.”

“Come on, mate, I’m not gonna sleep with David Nolan,” sighed Lacey.

“Why not?”  Leroy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “He’s tall, good-looking, has a decent job…”

“Leroy…”

“He’s a steady guy,” persisted Leroy.  “Plus he has those big blue eyes all the girls seem to go gooey over.”

“He’s not my type,” said Lacey, and looked at him over the top of her glass. “Starting to think he might be yours, though.”

Leroy sent her a flat look.

“Hey, I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” she said.  “Besides, haven’t you seen him making eyes at Miss Blanchard?  I think _his_ type runs more to sweet schoolteacher than slutty waitress.”

Leroy frowned.

“You’re not slutty,” he said sternly.

“I’m not asking David Nolan on a date, and that’s final,” she said, and he sighed.

“Fine.  Forget I said anything.”

“Gladly.”

There was silence for a moment, and Lacey took another drink, noticing Leroy stiffen in his chair.  She looked up, setting down her glass.

“What?” she asked, and Leroy nodded over her shoulder, his mouth flattening.

“Gold,” he said grimly.

Lacey turned, and watched Gold enter the bar with his usual fluid swagger, drifting through the crowds like a spectre.  He smiled briefly as he caught her eye, but she recognised the grim expression on his face.

“Someone’s late with the rent,” she observed, and Leroy snorted.

“Yeah, well, not me.”

“Nor me.”  She craned her neck, watching as he approached a nervous-looking Keith Nott.  “Uh-oh.”

Gold had lifted one leather-gloved hand, index finger pointing, and although the music and chatter in the bar meant that she couldn’t hear what he was saying, she could certainly guess.  She winced as Keith backed off a little.

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” she remarked, and Leroy grinned.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be on the end of one of Gold’s tongue-lashings,” he muttered, and Lacey giggled.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said.  “That’s one thing he’s _really_ good at.”

Leroy looked perplexed.

“What?”

She waved a hand. “Never mind.”

She watched Gold step closer, gold tooth glinting as he said something that was undoubtedly threatening.  Nott raised his chin, puffing out his chest.

“He’s gonna do something stupid,” growled Leroy, and took another drink.

As if on cue, Keith threw a punch, and Lacey gasped as Gold stepped back smoothly and hefted the cane in his hand.  Keith was off-balance, and Gold whacked him once across the back, sending him crashing to the floor and pinning him there with the cane’s gold handle at his throat.  The bar had gone very quiet.

“You’ll bring me what you owe me, or face the consequences, do you hear?” Gold was bent forwards, his hair hanging in his face, speaking through gritted teeth.  “Try that again and I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you.”

His accent was stronger when he was angry, Lacey reflected.  Just as it was when he was aroused.  The thought made her shiver deliciously.  Gold straightened up, grounding the cane, and swaggered out past the silent patrons.

“Having fun?” Lacey asked as he drew near, and his mouth twisted.

“I can think of more enjoyable ways to spend an evening,” he said, and she grinned.

“Me too.”

His eyes glinted at her, a tiny smile curling his mouth.

“Some other time, perhaps,” he said.

“Count on it.”

He winked at her, and nodded to Leroy, turning away to leave, and she watched him go, the light shining on his hair.

“Get a room,” muttered Leroy, and she turned back with a grin.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked, and Leroy pursed his lips.

“Never been given one before,” he said.  “What’s up?”

Lacey hesitated, bouncing on her toes beneath the table, and Leroy raised an eyebrow.

“I slept with him,” she blurted.

“Who, David Nolan?”

“Oh my God…”  Lacey pushed back, rolling her eyes.  “Would you stop with the David Nolan fanboy thing?  I meant Gold.”

Leroy choked, spraying beer.

_“What?”_

“A few times, actually,” she said, glancing over to where Gold was slinking out of the door.  “It was pretty cool.”

She glanced back, and then turned to face Leroy properly.  He was watching her with wide eyes and an expression of stunned disbelief on his face.

“What?” she said wearily, and he shook his head.

“You - you _slept_ with _Gold_?”

“Yeah.”

She inspected her fingernails.  Leroy was staring at her.

“Stop looking at me like I’ve grown a second head!” she snapped.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“Just _what_?”

“Did he - uh…”  Leroy looked uncomfortable.  “Did he - like - make you an offer you couldn’t refuse, or something?”

It was Lacey’s turn to choke on her drink.

 _“What?”_ she spluttered.  “Are you - _no_!  No, I wanted to.  He’s pretty incredible.  Very - intense, if you know what I mean.”

“Boy, do I _not_ want to know,” said Leroy flatly, and she giggled.

“Fine, I won’t give you all the disgusting, perverse details.”

“Thank you.”

“Although he doesn’t just use that cane for walking, let me tell you.”

“Oh my God…”

He let his head fall onto his arms again, and she snickered.

“Sorry,” she said, patting his shoulder.  “No more, I promise.”

He sat up, shaking his head wearily and making her laugh harder.  There was a moment of silence as they both drank.

“So…”  Leroy turned his glass around on the tabletop, leaving a wet trail of moisture.  “So, are you guys dating?”

Lacey snorted, sitting back.

“Are you serious?” she said flatly.  “Come on, mate.  Guys like Gold don’t date girls like me.  They fuck us.  That’s it.  That’s all I’m worth.”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way!” he snapped, and she huffed in amusement.  Leroy’s eyebrows drew down.

“What?”

“You sound like him,” she said, and his brow crinkled.

“Gold?”

“Yeah, he’s always saying that I shouldn’t talk myself down,” she said carelessly.  “That I could do more, be more, whatever.”

Leroy grunted.

“Well, he’s right,” he said grudgingly.  “Stop giving yourself a hard time.  You’re a good person with a good heart.”

She leaned over to kiss his whiskery cheek.

“So are you.”

* * *

Gold spent the evening relaxing with a bottle of wine in his study, listening to music and going through his paperwork.  His encounter with Keith Nott had left him irritated, and he suspected that he wouldn’t get what he was owed without more unpleasantness.  Everyone else was up to date with their rent, although there were some loan payments that hadn’t come in, and some pawned items that were nearing the time limit for repayment.  He made a note of what needed to be chased up in the next week and closed his ledger, taking up his glass of wine with a sigh.  Perhaps he’d look over his remaining vacant commercial property, see what repairs and renovations needed to be done before the winter properly settled in.

He took a long drink, relaxing back in his chair, and glanced at the clock.  Approaching midnight, and past time to stop working.  A knock at the front door made him frown, and he sat up, tapping his fingers on the desk.  A late night visit never boded well, and for a moment he wondered whether Nott had grown some balls and come to confront him.  He put down his glass and pushed himself to his feet with his cane, making his way through to the hall.  The shadow behind the frosted glass of the door was short, and he revised his notion of who his visitor was.  He opened the door, brushing his hair out of his face with a hand, and Miss French beamed up at him, cheeks flushed with the cold.

“Lacey,” he said, surprised, and she grinned, the scent of whisky strong on her breath.

“Hey!” she said brightly, and stumbled a little, bracing herself against the door frame.

“You seem a little tipsy,” he said, amused.

“Drunk off my ass and horny as hell,” she declared.  “You gonna let me in?”

Gold smiled and stepped back.

“Why don’t I make some coffee?” he suggested, and she barged in, giggling.

“You can do that after you’ve banged me so hard I black out,” she said, turning to twine her arms around his neck.  He shut the door, stroking his hands up her back and leaning back as she tried to kiss him.

“At least drink some water,” he said firmly.  “You’ll have a headache in the morning, otherwise.”

Lacey sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, _fine_!” she said.  “But we’re taking the water upstairs.”

He chuckled.  “A compromise, then.  Come on through to the kitchen.”

She trailed after him, and he poured a long glass of water for her.  Lacey drank half of it standing at the sink, and he refilled it for her.

“Did you come over on your own?” he asked.

“Nah, Leroy walked me over.”

“You told him about us?”  He was surprised, but she shrugged.

“Think he kind of guessed when he saw me openly lusting after you,” she said, and waved a hand.  “Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone.  Your secret’s safe.”

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t give a flying fuck who knew about them, but realised that _she_ probably wanted to keep it secret.  She was drinking again, eyes wide and bright above the glass, her skin looking soft as silk.  Her hair was tied up, and he wanted to let it down, stroke his fingers through it and feel its softness.  He wanted to spread it out on his pillows as he lay her down and kissed every inch of her.  His tiredness had disappeared like smoke as she entered his house, and he was in the mood to take his time.  She seemed to like her sex frenzied.  It would be nice to take things slowly, for change.  Lacey put down her glass, grinning up at him.

“You wanna go to bed?” she asked, and he shifted his feet, fingers opening and closing on the cane.

“We don’t have to go up yet,” he said.  “We could…”

She snorted, cutting him off.  “What?  Talk?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, and she shot him a twisted smile.

“Whenever we talk, we fight,” she said.  “Really not in the mood.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he said evenly, and she sighed.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

She set down her glass and stepped forward, putting her hands on his chest.  Her touch made him shiver, and she seemed to feel it, flicking her eyes up to meet his.  Her lips were full and red, stained dark as wine, and he remembered how sweet she tasted.  How soft she felt beneath him.  She ran her tongue across her lips, leaving them plump and glistening, and he felt a surge of desire.  Lacey stretched up, until her lips almost brushed his, and he could smell her perfume, flowers and some sort of spice, heady and sweet and delicious.  Her hands slid over the silk of his shirt, brushing his hardened nipples, and he could feel himself starting to swell.

“Do you want to go to bed?” she breathed.

“Yes!” he whispered, and bent to capture her mouth with his.

* * *

It was after one when he pulled out of her, their bodies covered in sweat and Lacey’s flushed face gazing up at him in heavy-eyed contentment.

“That was awesome,” she murmured, reaching up to stroke his hair.

He bent to kiss her, her mouth soft and wet.  Lacey relaxed into the kiss, her hands stroking over his shoulders, and when he pulled back she sighed, smiling briefly.  She patted his arm, and he rolled off her onto his back.

“I should go,” she said, and he sighed.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s late,” she said, and made to pull away.  He put a hand on her hip, a soft touch, not holding her there, but wanting to keep the connection.

“You could stay,” he offered, and she twisted to look at him, a wry smile on her face.

“The so-called beast of Storybrooke wants to snuggle?” she said.  “Not really our thing, is it?”

_No, it’s not.  Maybe it could be.  Maybe it never will._

“As you said, it’s late,” he pointed out.  “And you shouldn’t walk home alone.  I’ve had a little too much wine to drive you.  Just stay.”

She seemed to waver, her eyes narrowing, and he shrugged in his most offhand manner.

“It doesn’t mean anything, right?” he said, feeling as though the words were being pulled from him, and she eyed him briefly before nodding.

“Right.”

“Well then.”

He waited, and after a moment she settled down, shifting to lie with her back to him.  He flicked off the lamp and slipped an arm around her waist, spooning around her and drawing her scent in through his nose.  She was sweet, and beautiful, and this was no doubt a transient thing, a brief flicker of light in the darkness of his life.  He planned to keep the spark alive as long as he could.


	14. Go Our Separate Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold and Lacey actually spent the night together. It seems that things are looking up!
> 
> *screams into a pillow in frustration at characters*

It took a moment or two to realise where she was.  

The room was darker than she was used to, and she was very warm.  Lacey shifted, feeling hot, damp skin pressed against her cheek, and the body beside her moved.  She realised that she was half-draped across Gold, one leg between his and her face pushed into his neck.  His scent was all over her, warm and familiar, and an arm held her in place as his chest rose and fell with his breath.  She raised her head to glance up at him, her eyes adjusting to the darkness until she could make out his features, picked out in shades of deep blue.  His breathing was quiet and even, and she let her head fall back onto the firm heat of his chest, feeling his am tighten around her instinctively as she moved.  It felt nice, to lie curled up with someone.  It felt almost safe, as though nothing could touch her while she was in his arms.  Wanting to roll her eyes at her own imaginings, she settled down with a sigh.  She could stay until morning.

* * *

It was light when she woke, the first glow of dawn seeping through the curtains, and Lacey blinked rapidly, stretching.  There was a mild thumping in her head, a dryness in her mouth, and she grumbled a little as she remembered how many shots she had had.  She didn’t feel nearly as bad as she usually did after a night out, so the water she had drunk must have helped.

She turned over, stretching out an arm, but the bed beside her was empty.  The sheets were still warm, though, so wherever Gold was, he hadn’t been gone long.  She pushed up, sliding out of bed and snatching up his discarded shirt to pull it on and trot to the bathroom.

The scent of fresh coffee was in the air, and once she had washed her hands and curled a lip at the streaks of mascara under her eyes, she padded downstairs.  Gold was standing at the kitchen counter, clad in a pair of pyjama pants that he definitely hadn’t been wearing when they fell asleep, and a bathrobe in thick black damask silk, belted at the waist.  His hair was wonderfully messy, his feet bare, and he turned to face her with a brief smile, his eyes gleaming with warmth.

“Morning,” he said.  “Coffee?”

“God, yes!”

She leaned back against the counter as he poured them both a cup.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Okay, considering.  Man, Leroy can drink!”

“I thought you said that you and Miss Lucas were going out,” he said, and she pulled a face.

“Yeah, she dumped me to go and bang her on-off girlfriend,” she said.  “No big deal, I mean I get it.  Just lucky Leroy was in the mood to down some shots.”

He grinned at that, lifting the cup to take a sip.

“I could make you breakfast,” he suggested.  Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Better not.  The kittens have been on their own all night and I should really get back and feed them.”

“It won’t take long.”  He took another drink.  “Toast and scrambled eggs, what do you say?”

Her stomach growled in interest, and Gold’s smile widened.

“Fine!” she sighed.  “Scrambled eggs, huh?”

“I could show you how to make it,” he said.  “If you like.”

“I can make scrambled eggs!” she said indignantly.  “You just whisk ‘em and put ‘em in the microwave for a minute or so, it’s not exactly _haute cuisine_!”

Gold closed his eyes with what she thought was an expression of pain, but when he opened them again his face was clear.

“Well, that’s one way to do it, of course,” he acknowledged.  “Would you let me show you the way my aunts taught me to make it?”

She eyed him a little suspiciously, but he hadn’t ridiculed her or insisted he knew best, so she nodded.

“Okay.”

He set down his coffee, turning to take out a glass bowl and put it on the counter.  He then reached into one of the cupboards, removing a small frying pan and setting it on the stove.

“A non-stick pan’s best,” he said, turning on the heat.  “There’s bread in the box there.  Could you put some slices in the toaster?”

Lacey put down her coffee and went to take four slices of good wholemeal bread from the bread box.  She set them in the toaster, pushing the lever down, and Gold nodded, reaching into one of the drawers.  He handed her some cutlery, and she set it on the table.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“Whisk your eggs up in a bowl with some salt,” he said, taking three eggs from the earthenware bowl on the counter and juggling them with rapid flicks of his hands.  Lacey giggled as he tried to catch them in one hand, cracking two of them.

“Shit!” he swore, tipping the contents into the glass bowl.  “Okay, don’t try to be clever about it, just crack the bloody things as normal.”

He added another egg and a pinch of salt, and beat the mixture briskly with a fork.  Lacey watched as he cut a large knob of butter and added it to the hot pan.  It began to melt, spreading across the pan and frothing, and he turned down the heat before adding the beaten egg and grabbing a silicone spatula.

“Now all you need to do is stir it until it’s done,” he said, working the egg in loops and folds.  “Could you butter the toast?  This won’t take long.”

She took the hot toast and set it on plates, spreading butter over the thick slices, and watched as Gold stirred the eggs.  They had grown paler as they solidified, and she noted how they didn’t stick to the pan.  That would actually be easier than trying to clean the plastic dishes she used when she microwaved the stuff, she thought.  She had seen the cooks at the diner do something similar, albeit on a larger scale, and she thought she could certainly give it a try.  Gold turned off the heat, continuing to stir, and divided the soft, creamy eggs between the plates of buttered toast.

“It _does_ look good,” she admitted, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Take a seat,” he said.  “Black pepper?”

“Um - sure.”

She took her coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, watching as he ground a little black pepper over the eggs and set hers in front of her, turning to fetch his own.  She picked up a fork and dug in.  It was delicious, soft and creamy, rich with the butter, and she made a noise of contentment.  Gold grinned as he sat opposite.

“I’ll take that as approval.”

She cut a piece of toast, loading it up with eggs and almost shoving it in her mouth.  Butter made her fingers slippery, and she licked them clean, picking up her knife again.

“Are you working today?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Day off, thank God,” she said.  “I really need to get back and spend some time with the cats before they stop speaking to me.”

“I’m going to the shop,” he offered.  “I can drive you.”

She looked up at him.

“It’s Sunday,” she said, and he shrugged.

“I have stocktaking to do.”

“You should live a little, Gold,” she remarked, cutting her toast.  “All work and no play…”

“How many hours have you worked this week?” he asked mildly, and she sighed.

“That’s not because I love the job, that’s because I need to survive.  Totally different.”

“Hmm.”  He took a forkful of eggs, watching her.  “How is it that you never went to college?”

“Couldn’t afford it,” she said bluntly.  “Dad never put anything by for it, or if he had, he drank it before I left high school.”

“Well, did you take the SATs?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No point,” she said brusquely.  “Knew I couldn’t go, so why put myself through the stress?”

“Weren’t you curious about what kind of score you could get?”

Lacey pulled a face.

“Look, it wouldn’t have been a good outcome either way,” she said.  “I could have gotten a crappy result and felt even worse than I already do, or a good result and felt bitter because I couldn’t do anything with it, you know?”

He opened his mouth, and she raised her fork, shaking her head.

“Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it,” she added.  “Let me enjoy these delicious eggs in peace, okay?”

He smiled, a brief quirk of his lips, and turned his attention to his own breakfast.  Lacey poked at her eggs, her appetite suddenly gone.  She had never regretted her decision not to take the SATs, for the reasons she had given him.  But the fact that she was only a high school graduate in a dead-end job bothered her more than she liked, particularly when she was seated across from the most powerful man in Storybrooke.  She hated feeling inferior.

 _Think I’d be used to it by now_ , she thought dryly.  It was true, she was used to giving herself a hard time, but few people realised the true lack of her self-esteem, hidden as it was behind the face she showed to the world.  She could feel that it was starting to be different with him, and the thought was unnerving.  The persona she had created for herself, the mask she wore, were at risk of slipping around him.  She was in danger of letting him see the person behind the walls, the real Lacey that only her true friends knew.  She was in danger of falling in love with him.

They finished their breakfast in near silence, Lacey lost in her own thoughts and Gold seemingly unwilling to disturb them.  He drove her into town, parking up outside his shop, and she got out with a brief kiss to his cheek, telling him she’d see him around, or something equally casual.  She could feel his eyes on her as she walked to her own apartment, and it made her shiver.

The kittens were delighted to see her, crawling over one another in their haste to be petted, and she talked nonsense to them as she set out food into their bowls, scratching their heads as they ate.  She took a shower, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe, and made herself some coffee, huddled on the couch with her feet tucked under her.  Her growing feelings for Gold were new and alarming, and she was finding it hard to process them, to understand what it was she truly felt.

 _Maybe it’s because he’s great in the sack,_ she thought.   _Maybe it’s nothing more meaningful than that._

She sighed, letting her head roll back against the cushions.  Whatever she felt for him was moot.  He had said the previous night that it didn’t mean anything, and he was right.  Didn’t mean they couldn’t hang out or even bang every now and then; she just had to get over her crush.  Have that whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, however ridiculous the thought of the two of them being friends was.  She took a sip of her coffee, the bitter liquid soothing, and made a decision to take him coffee and cake later that afternoon.  Just to prove they could interact without her behaving like a lovesick idiot.  She could act just as casual as he could.

* * *

She made her way over just after three, a cardboard tray carrying two cups of coffee in one hand and a paper bag with a piece of Granny’s double chocolate cake in the other.  Ruby had given her a curious look when she saw that Lacey had ordered two coffees, but luckily the diner was busy and she hadn’t had time to ask the reason.  Lacey had dressed in clothes more fitting to the cold weather than her usual diner outfit.  Her tights were thick beneath a short, black wool dress and a tiny fitted leather jacket.  She was even wearing a scarf, dark red wool wound around her throat.  The bell above the door to the pawn shop jingled as she entered, and she noticed Gold standing on a set of steps at one of the shelves, a piece of china in his hand.  

“Lacey,” he said, with a tiny smile.  “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“I brought you coffee and cake,” she said casually, setting the cups and the paper bag on the counter.  “Got myself a coffee and figured you probably hadn’t left this place all day.”

He got down immediately and leaned on the counter with both hands, his cane resting against the wall behind him.

“It’s very kind of you.”  He opened the bag, smiling at the contents.  “My favourite.  Would you like to share?  We could sit down in the back room.”

“Nah, I can’t stay,” she said.  “You made me breakfast, I brought you cake. _Quid pro quo,_ right?  It doesn’t mean anything serious.”

“I didn’t think it did,” he said, his face growing oddly blank.  “It’s nice of you to think of me and bring some over, that’s all.”

“It’s just cake, Gold.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “It seems so.”

There was a weird heaviness in the air, hanging between them, and she thought it was probably her fault.  She tried for a lighter tone.

“Besides, I know what happens when you get me in that back room,” she said, grinning at him.  “I can’t spend an hour bent over your bench, I have shit to do.”

He sent her a faint smile, a trace of the usual wicked glint in his eyes.

“I’m sure you have far more important things to be doing,” he said.

“Yeah, you too.”  She bounced on her toes a little, still feeling uncomfortable.

“Not like either one of us is emotionally invested in this thing we have going, right?” she added, and he blinked at her.

“Right,” he said quietly.

Why did that hurt, deep in her chest?  She had come over to tell him that she saw their relationship in the same casual light that he did.  She knew that what they had couldn’t last, that he would tire of her and move on, just as her father said he would.  Why did it hurt so much to have him confirm it?  She shoved the thoughts away, concentrating on the counter in front of her.  She could think about it later.  Or not.  Not thinking about it sounded even better.  She turned away with her coffee in hand, walking slowly through the shop, glancing at the collection of things on the shelves: books and trinkets and vases.

“How come no one ever comes in here?” she asked, running a finger along one of the shelves.

“They come in to pay rent, or to make loan payments,” he said.  “Or to pawn things, of course.”

“But you don’t sell the things they pawn,” she said, and he pointed.

“That vase you’re perilously close to knocking off its shelf is an item for sale,” he said.  “It’s just that the market for antiques and fine jewellery is somewhat limited in this town, and we don’t get many summer visitors.”

“Don’t you use Ebay?” she asked, and he looked at her as though she was speaking a foreign language.

“No.”

“Why not?”  She suddenly chuckled.  “No, don’t tell me, I’ve seen your flip phone.  I’m guessing you have about as much knowledge of technology as Leroy has of international diplomacy.”

“I like my flip phone,” he said defensively, and she laughed harder.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, for dramatic effect it’s great,” she said.  “Remind me to get you an iPhone when I win the lottery.”

“I think not,” he said coldly, and she chuckled again.

“So, what about the Ebay thing?” she went on, after a moment of silence.  “I’m serious.  You’d shift a bunch of stuff.”

“And then I’d have to restock,” he said, and she shot him a look.

“Gold, I’ve seen your house,” she said patiently.  “You have _tons_ of stuff there.  I didn’t even look in the basement yet, but I bet that’s full of more boxes of crap.”

He shifted his feet, his mouth flattening, and she snickered.

“Thought so.  Seriously, you could make a killing.”

“I earn a very good living as it is,” he said, in a tone that didn’t invite further comment.  She rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed.  “Guess I’d better get going.  I only came over to give you the cake.”

She turned back to face him properly, and he lifted a hand, a quelling gesture.

“A moment,” he said.  “I’ve been thinking about what you said at breakfast.”

“What did I say?” she asked, suddenly wary, and he grasped his cane, walking out from behind the counter.

“You said you hadn’t taken your SATs because there was no point, because you couldn’t afford to go to college,” he said.  “But there are lots of grants and scholarships, you know.  Plenty of opportunities to apply for funding, when you have little income of your own.”

“Gold…”

She raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“I’m serious, Lacey,” he said.  “You could do well, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

He sighed, seemingly weary of her attitude.

“Surely it’s worth looking into.”

“Like I don’t already have enough to do with my life?” she said dryly, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have missed the part where you told me you loved working in the diner and couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else,” he said sarcastically.  “How very remiss of me.”

“Yeah, well, most of the time we spend together ends up naked, so I guess there hasn’t been the opportunity to have deep conversations about the future,” she shot back, and he blinked.

“I - I still think you should consider it.”

His voice had changed again, becoming low and calm and careful, as though he was trying to reason with a stubborn toddler.  It made her bristle.

“Maybe I don’t have time, mister, did you ever think about that?” she snapped, and he scowled.

“Well, maybe you should make time,” he said, the sharpness returning.  “Unless of course you _like_ slinging burgers for minimum wage.”

“Oh, you think I do that because I _like_ it?” she demanded.

“No,” he said coldly.  “I think you do it because it’s safe.  Because you don’t have to think about it.  Because you can bitch and whine to your friends about how dreadful your life is and all the while take no concrete steps to better yourself, when you’re more than capable of doing something you actually enjoy.  Because not trying at all is easier than trying and failing.”

“How _dare_ you!”  She wanted to throw her coffee over him.  “It’s easy for _you_ , isn’t it?  The guy who never had to worry about money in his _life_!”

“You know nothing about my life,” he said, his eyes flashing, and she curled her lip.

“Yeah, and I don’t want to,” she said.  “Enjoy the coffee.”

She stomped out, almost slamming the door behind her.  Bloody, bloody _bloody_ man!

* * *

Gold watched her go, frustrated with himself as much as with her.  What business was it of his if she wanted to waste her life?  He picked up the coffee, taking a sip.  The brew was dark and bitter, matching his mood, and he stomped into the back room to sit at his bench and drink it.  He had once again failed to understand the beautiful, volatile mystery that was Lacey French.

* * *

Gold went home early, and slept poorly, a mixture of regret and indignation making his thoughts run in circles.  It was a relief to wake in the grey dawn, grainy-eyed and aching, and once he had showered and shaved and drunk two cups of strong coffee he felt better.  He dressed to suit his mood, in unrelieved black, and decided to walk to the shop, as it would give him more opportunities to scowl at people.  Spying Lacey bustling through the diner with a tray of empty plates, he elected not to go in for his usual morning coffee.  He was too tired to think of a clever response to anything she might have said to him.

Thankfully he had plenty to keep him busy in the form of chasing up late rent and loan payments, and being able to use a mix of sarcasm and intimidation made him feel better.  As a result, Leroy Pitman barged into the shop at just after four, glowering at Gold before striding up to the counter.

“It’s all there,” he said gruffly, and Gold nodded, counting out the money.

“Excellent,” he said absently.  “You’re paid up until next month.”

Leroy said nothing, and Gold looked up from his ledger with a frown.

“Was there something else?”

“I hear you told Lacey she should take her SATs,” said Leroy, and Gold frowned.

“She told you?” he asked, and Leroy shrugged.

“Well, there was a lot of ‘who the hell does he think he is?’ and ‘I don’t need another man telling me how to live my life’, but yeah.  I got it out of her in the end.”

“She deserves better than waiting tables in this dump of a town,” grumbled Gold.  “I wanted to help, that’s all.”

“By telling her what to do?”

Leroy was looking at him as though he was an idiot, and it was making him angry.

“By telling her there was nothing stopping her from going to college other than herself,” he snapped, and Leroy sucked air in over his teeth.

“Ouch,” he said, and Gold began to pace, irritated.

“Okay, so possibly I could have worded it more tactfully.”

“‘Possibly?’” said Leroy, and Gold winced.

“It’s not as though she’s remotely interested in my opinion, anyway,” he said, aware that he sounded bitter, and hating it.

Leroy curled his lip.

“You know, for an intelligent guy, you’re really fucking stupid,” he said, and Gold felt his nostrils flare.

“Would you care to rephrase that sentence into something that won’t make me evict you?” he said, in a freezing voice, and Leroy sighed.

“Look man, I don’t know what the hell’s going on between you two, and I’m not sure I want to,” he said.  “But Lacey’s not what people think she is.  She pretends she’s a hard-drinking, hard-loving - well, hardass.  But she cares what people think.  Those whose opinions matter, anyway.”

“Like who?” asked Gold suspiciously.

“Like her friends,” said Leroy patiently.  “Me.  Ruby.  Granny.  You, for some reason.  Even her dad, although she’d never admit it.  But she’s also stubborn as a mule.”

“Really?  I hadn’t noticed,” said Gold, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “What’s your point?”

“My point is, you could be giving her the best advice in the world,” said Leroy.  “But if she thinks you’re pushing her to do something, she’ll push back.  She doesn’t do well with authority.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Gold dryly.

“So you have to change the way you go about it,” added Leroy.  “Sounds to me like you care what happens to her, which makes you one of a select few in this place.”

Gold stayed silent, glowering, and Leroy rolled his eyes.

“Look, you need to approach things differently, is all I’m saying,” he said.  “She won’t respond to threats, or orders, or you losing your damn temper.”

“I didn’t!” protested Gold, unable to believe he was being lectured by a hospital security guard with a bad attitude and a drink problem.

“Let her feel like she has some say in it,” said Leroy.  “Like she has a choice, that’s all.  That’s all she wants.”

A choice.  Well, he could understand that.  He’d been in enough situations where he’d had no choices of his own, after all.

“Thank you for the advice,” he said coldly.  “Unsolicited though it was.”

Leroy grunted.

“Look, if you can convince her to make something more of her life, I’ll be your biggest fan,” he said.  “You gonna write me a receipt for that payment, or are we gonna hug and confess our feelings?”

Gold glared at him, but picked up his pen.  A choice, was it?  He thought he had just the thing.

* * *

He thought about calling her, but in the end it was she that came to him, looking a little subdued and tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth in that adorable way she had.  He tried to remember when he had started thinking of some of her traits as adorable, and found that he couldn’t.  She walked slowly to the counter, looking unsure of herself, and he waited for her to speak.

“You - uh.”  She looked over her shoulder, as if to make certain they were alone.  “You didn’t come in the diner this morning.”

“No.”  He clutched at the handle of his cane.  “I was - well, I didn’t sleep much last night.  I wasn’t fit for company.”

She shifted uncomfortably.

“Luckily it’s a day to chase up rent stragglers,” he added, “so I didn’t have to suffer too much of it.”

She smiled faintly, swivelling her right foot back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Well, I’m sorry too,” he said, with a brief smile.  “Perhaps we should try to be less defensive around one another.”

“Yeah, we could try that.”

She sounded dry, as though she thought it was wishful thinking.  It probably was.

“I’m glad you came over,” he said.  “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What?” she asked, and he settled back on one foot.

“Lacey, would you like a job?” he asked, and she frowned at him.

“A job?”

“Yes.”  He leaned on the counter, shaking his hair back.  “You said I should open an Ebay shop.  I’ve thought it over and I think you’re probably right.”

She sent him a smirk.

“Obviously.”

“But as you so eloquently said,” he went on, “I know as much about technology as Mr Pitman knows about international diplomacy.  So I need someone to set it up and run it for me.”

She took a step closer, interest brightening her face.

“You - you want _me_ to run it?” she said eagerly, and he shrugged.

“If you don’t, I’ll probably end up getting scammed by a Nigerian prince, or something.”

Lacey snorted.  “Well, _that’s_ true!”

“Then you’ll do it?” he asked, and she folded her arms.

“What are you paying?”

“To start with, fifteen an hour,” he said.  “Full-time hours, and we’ll take it from there.  If I’m pleased with what you’ve done at the end of two months, we can talk about a raise.”

Her eyes had widened at the mention of the wage.  It was no doubt almost double what she was currently getting.  After a moment, though, she looked unsure.

“Look, it won’t take me forty hours a week to run this thing,” she said.  “Not after I first set it all up, anyway.  It’s gonna be cataloguing everything that’ll be the real bitch.  After that it’ll just be maintenance, monitoring sales, arranging shipping, that sort of thing.”

“Well, if the work slackens off, I’m sure I can find you something to do,” he said.  “Are you interested or not?”

Her eyes narrowed then, and he pretended a lack of interest in her response, looking at his fingernails.

“You won’t find it weird?” she asked.  “Me working here, after we’ve - well - after we’ve been - together?”

Gold gave her his most nonchalant shrug.

“I thought you weren’t emotionally invested.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly.

“Well then.”

He waited, wanting to drum his fingers on the counter impatiently, but keeping them clenched around the cane handle.

“Okay,” she said eventually.  “I’d like to come and work for you.  What’s my job title?”

“I don’t care,” he said.  “Choose whatever you like.  I’ll have an employment contract drawn up for you to look over.”

“A - right.  Of course.”  She looked at him shrewdly.  “Do I get medical insurance?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”  She grinned at him, and he sent her a thin smile.

“There’s one other condition of you taking this post, however,” he said.

“And what’s that?” she asked suspiciously.  His smile widened.

“Well, given that you didn’t study beyond high school, I need to be sure of the calibre of assistant I’m getting,” he said.  “I’d like you to take the SATs.”

Lacey sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Gold…”

“What?” he asked.  “It’s a reasonable request.  I’ll pay for the tests.  All you have to do is turn up and complete them to the best of your ability.”

“And if I don’t, I don’t get the job?” she asked.  “This is low, even for you.”

“Oh, you’ll still get the job,” he assured her.  “It just might make it more difficult when it comes to assess your pay, that’s all.”

“My _pay_?” she snapped.  “You know how hard I work!  I don’t see why this is necessary.”

“I do know how hard you work,” he agreed.  “I also know that your resume probably reads ‘waitress: 2012 to present’, and therefore displays no experience in the role I propose.”

Lacey glared at him.

“You’re a bastard!”

“Yes, so I’ve been told,” he said, in a bored voice.  “Repeatedly, I might add.”

“I don’t believe this…”

“Those are my terms, Miss French,” he said.  “What do you think?”

She put her hands on her hips, looking him up and down, and he could almost see her mind working.

“You want to make any pay rise dependent on me taking the tests, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm.”  She pursed her lips.  “Do you want to make a deal?”

Gold’s eyes narrowed.

“What kind of deal?”

“How about the better my score, the more of a pay rise I get,” she suggested, and he pretended to think about it, opening and closing his fingers on the cane.

“What is it you’re proposing?”

She looked at the ceiling, as though she was thinking about something, and he waited.

“Okay,” she said.  “How about anything over 1200 and I get twenty bucks an hour?”

Gold snorted.  “I think not.  I might pay sixteen dollars an hour for that, but not twenty.  Anything over 1500 and I might agree.”

“Oh, come _on_!”

She stamped her foot, but he gazed at her steadily, and she sighed.

“Fine, anything over 1300 then.”

“1450.”

_“Bastard!”_

Gold tutted, shaking his head with a twisted little smile, and Lacey sighed again.

“1350.”

“I’ll go as low as 1400, but that’s it,” he said sternly.

“Fine,” she said, a little sulkily.  “1400.  And you’re a manipulative little shit, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that.”

She huffed, pacing back and forth and muttering to herself, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Is it really so terrible?” he said mildly.  “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid!” she said immediately.

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, and she stomped up to him, raising her chin.

“Fine!  I’ll take the stupid tests, okay?”

“Excellent.”  He smiled at her.  “Then I’ll have the contract ready tomorrow.”

“Well, fuck you very much,” she drawled, and he showed his teeth.

“Some other time,” he said, and she stomped away again.

His grin broadened as he watched her go.  One step closer to getting her to believe in herself.  She was cross with him, of course, but he could live with that.


	15. Absent Through It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold offered Lacey a job, and made her future pay rise dependent on taking the SATs and getting a good score. So of course she's determined to do just that!

Lacey woke on Monday morning with cramps, and muttered curse words under her breath as she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.  She regretted stomping out of Gold’s shop without at least getting a good grope in; it looked as though she was off the menu for a few days.  She felt a little better after she had showered and dressed, and so she took two painkillers, fed the cats, and slipped out of the house.  It was the early shift, and the sun had barely risen.  She yawned as she entered the diner, hoping and praying that this would be the last Monday morning she had to come here to work.  Of course, she and Gold hadn’t discussed start days, but she presumed it would be soon.

He came in for his usual morning coffee at seven-thirty, and she served it to him with a flat look, noting his wry smile and the slim briefcase he was carrying.  He tapped his fingers on the handle, grinning at her, and she presumed her contract was inside.  She decided not to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was curious.

“One black coffee,” she said, setting it in front of him.  “Anything else?”

“Not right now,” he said pleasantly.  “But perhaps later.”

His grin had widened, and she trotted off before she could return it.  The guy was making her lose her mind.

* * *

She headed over to the shop once her shift was done, feeling tired but also excited about what he might have for her.  She had mentioned nothing to either Ruby or Granny, just in case the entire thing blew up in her face, but she needn’t have worried.  Gold was standing behind the counter with a sheaf of papers in front of him, as though he had been waiting for her.  He slid the papers across to her.

“One contract of employment,” he said.  “I suggest you read it carefully.”

“I intend to.”

“Excellent.  I’ll make some tea.”

He made his way to the back room, and she followed him through, perching on the edge of the cot in the corner while he filled the kettle and arranged the cups.  The contract was straightforward enough; her starting wage was fifteen an hour which would be reviewed after an initial two month period.  She raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her.

“When do you want me to start?”

“As soon as you can,” he said.  “How much notice does Mrs Lucas require?”

“I guess I should give her a week,” allowed Lacey.  “So do you want to say Tuesday?”

“Let’s say Wednesday, instead,” he suggested.  “You should have a day off before you start.”

“Okay then, Wednesday…”  She pursed her lips, reading over the terms again, and looked up.

“There’s nothing in here about my SAT score,” she said, and he inclined his head.

“That’s strictly between us,” he said.  “Do you trust me?”

Lacey raised her chin, and the ease with which the answer came to her was a surprise.

“Yes,” she said, and he nodded.

“You can take it home with you to read over and think about it.  I’m not going to press for an answer today.”

“Are you kidding?” she asked.  “This is the best opportunity I’ve had in _years_!”

“The first of many, I’m sure.”

She snorted.  “Well, I’m glad _you’re_ sure.  You do realise you may not ever get rid of me?”

Gold smiled.  “I’ll take that risk.”

She looked at him, amused.

“Then I guess before I sign, we should talk about the SATs,” she said.  “If that’s still gonna be a thing, of course.”

“That’s non-negotiable, Miss French,” he said softly, and she felt a tiny shiver go through her.

“Okay.”  She put down the contract, looking up at him.  “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, we need to get you registered,” he said.  “The next test is on the second of December, or there’s one in March.”

“I’d rather get it out of the way,” she said.  “December’s fine.”

“In that case the deadline is the seventh of November for registration,” he said, and she folded her arms.

“You’re really set on me doing this, aren’t you?”

Gold smiled briefly.

“We had a deal.”

“Okay, okay…”  She sighed, leaning back a little.  “Okay.  I’ll do it.  Second of December here I come.  I guess I’ll have to study.”

“If you want that raise, yes.”

The kettle boiled, the water bubbling until Gold flicked off the switch, and he poured the water into the pot, flicking the lid closed with one fingertip and turning back to face her.  Lacey clicked her fingers.

“You got a pen?” she asked.  “I’ve read this, and it’s all fair.  I’ll sign.”

“You’re sure you don’t need more time?”

“The sooner I sign, the sooner I can give notice at the diner, right?”

“Right, but I think...”

“So give me the pen.”

He grinned, reaching inside his jacket pocket and handing her a smooth black and gold pen.  Lacey bent to sign her name on both copies of the contract, and he took it from her to add his own name.  She met his eyes as he took one copy, and he smiled slightly.

“The deal is struck,” he said quietly, and she felt that shiver again.

Gold folded the contract into neat thirds and slid it inside his jacket, and after a moment she put her own copy into her purse.

“Well then,” he said.  “Perhaps we should celebrate.  Would you - would you like to come over?  I could cook.”

Lacey shook her head.

“No thanks,” she said.  “It’s shark week.”

“Shark week?”  Gold looked perplexed.

“You know…”  She gestured at her abdomen.  “The curse?  My plans for this evening kind of involved snuggling in my PJs with the kittens, eating anything that stays still and probably bawling my eyes out for no reason.”

“Ah.”  He put his head to the side.  “I believe chocolate of some kind would be welcome?”

“Chocolate of _every_ kind would be welcome,” she confirmed.  “I’m gonna head to the store later.  We should catch up later in the week when I’m less likely to want to kill every male of the species on principle.”

He looked amused.

“I shall maintain a respectful distance,” he said gravely, and she grinned.

“If - um…”  She licked her lips, feeling oddly hesitant.  “If you wanted to come over on Saturday, that would be okay.”

He grinned.  “Is this you asking me out on a date?”

“No,” she said immediately.  “It’s - it’s me knowing I’ll have nothing to do and thinking you could ease the boredom.”

“I see.”  He tapped his fingers on the cane handle.  “Shall I bring dinner?”

“Unless you want me to cook,” she said.  “And trust me, you _don’t_ want that.”

“Very well,” he said.  “Then it’s a date.”

“It’s _not_ a date,” she said firmly.  “But come over at seven anyway.”

Gold grinned, and reached to pour the tea.

* * *

Lacey hurried back to the diner once she left the shop, eager to give Granny and Ruby her news.  Granny took it well, although she directed a heavy frown in the direction of Gold’s pawnshop.

“You sure he hasn’t pressured you into this?” she asked suspiciously.

“Pressured her into doubling her wage?” said Ruby dryly.  “Yeah, I’m sure he really brought out the thumb-screws for that one.”

“It was my idea,” Lacey assured them.  “He has no clue about websites or Ebay or anything like that, so he wants me to run it for him.  It’ll be fun, and it’s something I could actually do.”

“Hmph.”  Granny looked unconvinced.  “Well, congratulations.  If he gives you any problems, you just let us know.”

“We should celebrate,” added Ruby.  “How about Saturday night?”

“Can we make it Friday?” asked Lacey, and Ruby shrugged.

“Sure.  I have Saturday off, anyway, so it works for me.”

“Also, you’re working Sunday,” said Granny, and Ruby looked crestfallen.

“Since when?”

“Since Lacey gave notice and I need to reschedule everyone’s shift,” said Granny.  “You’re working Sundays from now on.”

She bustled off to the kitchen again, and Lacey sent Ruby an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” she said, wincing, but Ruby shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool,” she said.  “More hours, more money, plus I can maybe switch nights off with someone and we can do a regular girls’ night.”

“Drinks are on me,” Lacey assured her.

* * *

Notice given, she almost skipped home, stopping off at the store to buy as many different combinations of fat and carbohydrate she could lay her hands on, along with a bottle of wine.  She hadn’t been kidding when she had informed Gold of her plans for the evening.  She struggled with her purchases as she went to check the mailbox, and blinked as she saw a rectangular box sticking out of it.  Curious, she hoisted the bag of groceries in one arm and pulled it out, her face breaking into a smile.  Chocolate truffles, the finest Storybrooke could offer.  It had to be Gold.

Once in the apartment, she put the pizza she had bought into the oven, ate one of the chocolates, opened the wine and sat down at her computer to browse.  The kittens had eaten and were feeling playful, so she lifted them up onto the desk to explore as she searched on Amazon.  She found a long list of SAT resources, each promising to help students pass well, but she read the reviews before coming to a decision about what to buy.  Minerva scrambled across her keyboard in pursuit of her brother, and Lacey scratched her ears as she passed, causing the kitten to pause in her game and roll over onto her back and swipe at Lacey’s fingers with her paws.

“Okay, so if I buy these two and this - ow!”  Lacey snatched her hand back and wagged a finger.  “Paws not claws!  How many times do we need to have this conversation?”

Minerva flailed, scrambling to her feet and bounding away, and Lacey sighed, turning back to the computer screen.  A few minutes later she was the proud owner of two SAT preparation books and a collection of practice papers, and she took a drink of wine to celebrate.  If Gold thought she was about to half-arse this thing, he was wrong.

* * *

The books turned up just after she had finished her Wednesday shift, and Lacey found herself, to her great surprise, looking forward to going through them when she got back from the store.  She rushed to buy the milk, bread and cat food she had been running low on, plus another bottle of wine, and hurried home.

It was surprising how much started coming back to her when she sat down and began reading.  She remembered looking through some past papers just before she left home, in the brief, faint hope that she would one day be able to go to college.  The memory of sitting in her father’s kitchen, going through one of the tests, still stuck in her head.  He had lumbered in, unsteady from the whisky he had drunk, and curled his lip as he looked at her.

“No point in you studying that bollocks,” he had said.  “Not like you’ll ever make anything of yourself.  You’d be better off helping me out in the shop, so I can take it a bit easier.  Only thing you’re good for, my girl.”

Lacey’s nostrils flared with anger at the memory, even as her insides crawled and shrank with self-doubt.  She squared her jaw, remembering his many taunts over the years, and shoving them aside.  She wanted the twenty bucks an hour.  She could do this.

The doorbell ringing made her start, and she got to her feet, surprised.  Part of her secretly hoped that Gold had decided his respectful distance was a little too much, and had come to visit, but she doubted it.  The sight of Ruby, bouncing on her toes with a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, was just as welcome.

“Hey!” she chirped.  “I’m here to make up for standing you up last week!  Pizza and a movie?”

Lacey stood aside to let her in, closing the door behind her.

“Pizza’s great, but you caught me studying,” she said.  “I promised myself I’d do two hours tonight, so can you wait until eight for the movie?”

“Um - sure, I guess,” said Ruby, sounding puzzled, and Lacey led her up the stairs to the apartment.

Ruby made a strangled noise at the sight of the kittens.

“Oh my God, they’re so adorable!” she said.  “I think they’ve grown!”

“Grown naughtier, for sure,” said Lacey dryly, going to the kitchen for two wine glasses.  “And eating anything they can.   _And_ jumping on my feet whenever I walk past.”

“You can get away with that sort of thing when you’re this cute.”  Ruby had picked up Severus and was making kissy faces at him.  “Ugh, I wish Granny would let me get one!”

“When you get your own place, maybe,” said Lacey, opening the wine and pouring two glasses.  “Here.  Have a seat, I just need to finish this.”

She sat back down at the kitchen table, where her SAT books and papers were spread, and picked up a pen to make notes.  Ruby sat in the other chair, stroking the kitten on her lap, and looked curious.

“Why do you have SAT past papers?” she asked.  “For a second there it was like deja vu of being at school.  Not cool.”

“I’m studying,” said Lacey, still scribbling.  “Taking the exams in December.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a while, except for the kittens’ purring and the scratch of Lacey’s pen.

“Why the sudden interest in the SATs, anyway?” asked Ruby, picking up one of the books.  “I thought you said there was no point.”

“Yeah,” sighed Lacey.  “Guess I spoke too soon.”

“How come?”

Lacey pulled a face, reaching for her wine.

“Gold convinced me to take ‘em,” she said.  “If I get over 1400 he’ll pay me twenty bucks an hour, so I _really_ need to get that score, Rubes.”

“ _Gold_ told you to do it?” said Ruby, puzzled.  “Why does he even care?  I didn’t think you two were such tight pals.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been sleeping with him,” said Lacey absently.  “Could you pass me that math book?”

Ruby had choked on her wine, and was staring, her eyes wide and watering.  Lacey put down her glass and reached out to thump her on the back as she coughed.

“You _slept_ with _Gold_!”

“Why does _everyone_ have that reaction?” sighed Lacey.  “It’s not like he’s a different species, for fuck’s sake.”

“Could have fooled me,” muttered Ruby.  “Seriously though, Lace, you _slept_ with him?”

“Repeatedly.”

“How could you _not tell me_?” demanded Ruby, looking put-upon.  “This is _huge_!”

“No, it’s really not.”

“Oh come _on_!”  Ruby slapped her hand against the table.  “For a start I’ve never heard you talk about seeing a guy more than once.”

“With the choices in this town, are you surprised?”

“And I’ve _never_ seen Gold with _anyone_!”

“Well, you’ve never seen him with me either,” said Lacey, and held out a hand.  “The book, Rubes.  Come on.  As a study-buddy you’re sucking pretty hard right now.”

“Okay, that comment means I have to ask…”

“Dammit, Ruby, gimme!”  Lacey clicked her fingers, and Ruby chuckled and handed her the book of practice math questions.

“I don’t believe it,” she said.  “Lacey French is actually blushing.  Does that mean you’ve sucked pretty hard yourself?”

“Oh my God…”  Lacey let her head drop into her hands, and Ruby cackled.

“Come on, spill.”

“Actually, that’s one thing we haven’t done,” said Lacey, looking up again and wishing her cheeks didn’t feel as though they were on fire.  “Any tips?”

Ruby shrugged nonchalantly, picking up her wineglass.

“I could probably give Gold some tips, if you want,” she said, and winked.

“Oh, believe me, he doesn’t need them,” said Lacey, and Ruby’s eyes widened.

“Seriously?  That good?”

“I thought I was gonna burst into flames and my head was gonna explode,” said Lacey, taking a drink.  “The man’s tongue should be illegal.”

Ruby’s face had twisted into a mixture between fascination and revulsion, and Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Come on, don’t weird out on me,” she complained.  “Tips!  I was serious!”

Ruby shrugged, brushing back her curtain of dark hair.

“Enthusiasm, I guess,” she said.  “Waking them up that way goes down well.  If you’ll pardon the obvious innuendo.”

She took a drink, waggling her eyebrows, and Lacey smirked.

“Maybe I’ll let him stay over.”

She opened the book, flicking through the pages, and reached for her drink.

“So.”  Ruby’s voice made her look up again.  “Are you guys - are you dating?”

“No,” said Lacey after a pause, and Ruby put her head to the side.

“Well, what do you do?” she asked.  “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Lacey shrugged.  “Sometimes I go to his place, and he cooks me dinner and we talk a little and then we bang.  Sometimes he comes over to mine and we have a drink and talk a little and - and then we bang.”

“Sounds like dating to me.”

“I doubt he’d see it that way.”

“Well, have you asked him?”  Ruby took another drink, looking at her over the top of her glass.

“No, and I’m not about to,” said Lacey.  “I don’t want things to get weird.”

“Why would they get weird?”

“Just leave it, Rubes,” she sighed.  “I’m concentrating on getting this test out of the way so I can get a wage rise and give the middle finger to my Dad and everyone else who said I’d never amount to anything.”

“Fair point.”  Ruby put down her glass and picked up one of the books.  “Kind of wish I’d studied harder at school.  I don’t want to be a waitress the rest of my life.”

“You’ll take over from Granny when she retires, right?” said Lacey, and Ruby pulled a face.

“Yeah, like I could do that.”

“Sure you could.”  Lacey drained her glass.  “I mean you’d need to study accounts and shit, but you could do that.  You were always good at math.”

“Yeah, but I _hated_ it.”

“You hated _calculus_ ,” said Lacey patiently.  “Accounts is useful.  I think you’d be great.”

“Hmm.”  Ruby wriggled in her seat a little.  “I don’t know…”

“At least talk to Granny about it,” suggested Lacey.  “Maybe you could start taking some of the management stuff away from her, give her an easier life.”

“Well, I guess I could do that,” Ruby acknowledged, and grinned.  “Wow, look at us making life plans!”

“Shit, hurry the fuck up and pour the wine before we become productive members of society.”

Lacey pushed her glass across the table with a grin, and Ruby chuckled.  She poured them another glass, sitting back and cradling her own between her hands.

“So,” she said.  “What’s he _like_?”

“Gold?”  Lacey sat up a little.  “He’s nice.  Most of the time, anyway.  He’s nothing like you’d think he would be.  Good cook.   _Great_ kisser.  Okay, _occasionally_ he’s a massive arsehole, but show me a guy that isn’t.”

“But good sex?”

“ _Amazing_ sex,” Lacey confirmed.  “He’s kinda kinky, actually.  Filthy mouth, handy with that cane of his...”

“Oh my God…”

Ruby was giggling helplessly, and Lacey grinned.

“Okay, no more word pictures,” she promised, but Ruby shook her head.

“No, this is hilarious.  I won’t be able to look him in the eye tomorrow.”  She gave Lacey a mischievous look.  “Have you thought about maybe surprising him?”

“I agreed to try the early morning blowjob.”

“No, I mean like, toys, or something.”

Lacey pursed her lips.

“That’s an idea.”

Ruby cackled.

“Let me know if you want to go shopping.”

“Yeah, maybe when I get my first paycheck,” said Lacey, with a grin, and took a slurp of her wine.  Ruby put her head to the side.

“Does your dad know?”

“God, no!”  Lacey shuddered at the thought.  “Although he suspects.  Gold paid my fine and the damage to his van, so he kind of assumes I signed up to blow him every Thursday until Armageddon.”

Ruby wrinkled her nose.

“Wow, what a tool,” she said.  “Sorry, I know he’s your dad...”

“No, he _is_ a tool,” acknowledged Lacey.  “I’m gonna go tell him about this new job, just to bloody well show him.  He’ll just think it proves his point, but…”

She shrugged as if to say she didn’t care.

“Nice of Gold to pay for the damage,” said Ruby, and Lacey’s mouth flattened.

“Yeah, that’s kind of a sore point,” she said.  “I know he meant well, but I really didn’t want him doing that.”

“Didn’t want your dad thinking you made a sex deal for it, huh?” said Ruby knowingly, and Lacey threw up a hand.

“See?   _You_ get why I was mad!”

“Best friend’s duty.”  Ruby winked.  “So, how did you get together in the first place.  I mean - you and Gold?  Not a pairing that springs to mind, you know?”

“All too well, believe me,” said Lacey dryly.  “I think I surprised myself.”

“So what was it?”

Lacey hesitated, rolling the stem of her glass between finger and thumb and making the wine ripple.

“I thought he’d be good to me,” she said finally.  “I know he’s a bastard to a lot of people, but he’s always been fair with me, and - and I think I’ve kind of had a thing for him for a while now.  I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Wow, you kept that one quiet,” remarked Ruby.

“Yeah.”  Lacey sent her a wry grin.  “I offered myself on a plate to him, you know?  To clear the rent?”

“Oh.  My…”  Ruby’s eyes widened.  “So _that’s_ how you did it!”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Lacey insisted.  “The bastard turned me down!  Sneaked the rent money to me - okay, I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure it was him - and then when I went over to his place to bang him anyway, he said no!”

“Huh.”  Ruby sat back in her chair.  “My respect for the guy is growing.  So did he make you beg, or what?”

She was grinning, and Lacey stuck out her tongue.

“No, we kind of danced around one another for a few days but we got there in the end,” she said.  “He’s coming over Saturday, so don’t bother turning up unannounced.”

“I still say that sounds like a date…”

“Well, it’s not,” sighed Lacey.  “It’s - okay, I don’t know what it is, exactly, but we’re not ‘out’ in that sense.”

“I can keep a secret,” said Ruby.  “Anyone else know?”

“Leroy,” said Lacey.  “Oh, and that red-haired bitch who just moved here, Miss-something-Green.  She kind of walked in on us when we were getting it on in the shop.”

Ruby burst out laughing.

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer person.”

“Right?” Lacey joined in the laughter.  “I think she has the hots for Gold.”

“Hmm.”  Ruby put her head to the side.  “I had no idea the guy was such a stud.  You been writing erotic poetry about his performance in the ladies’ room, or something?”

“Oh my God…”  Lacey shook her head blushing.  “Ruby…”

“There once was a landlord from Maine, who did dirty things with a cane…”

_“Ruby!”_

Ruby cackled, wiggling her eyebrows.

“So, she’s been coming onto your man, huh?” she said.

“He’s not my man.”

“Whatever.”  Ruby took a slurp of her drink.  “Any interest from him?”

“No,” said Lacey, after only the briefest pause.  “No, I don’t think so.”

“Want me to throw something over her next time she’s in the diner?” asked Ruby.  “I could totally do that.”

“Nah.”  Lacey leaned back, taking a drink.  “If she’s a bitch again, I’ll just remember that I slept with him and she didn’t.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Lacey let her head roll back, the warm buzz from the wine starting to seep through her muscles, relaxing her.  She sighed heavily.

“So, if you and Gold have been whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears,” said Ruby.  “How did he injure his leg?”

“Don’t know.”  Lacey opened her eyes.  “I never asked.”

“There must be stuff you want to know about him, though,” said Ruby.

Lacey hesitated.  Yes, there were things she wanted to know, but she didn’t have the right.

“I guess.”

“So ask him,” said Ruby.  “Sounds like you two have some communication issues.  In that you don’t.  Communication is essential to a healthy relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship…”

“He’s gonna be your boss,” said Ruby.  “You can have more than one kind of relationship, and either way you’re gonna need to talk to him about stuff.”

Lacey frowned, but Ruby was right.  They needed to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: a bad storm leads to an unexpected sleepover :)


	16. Carry Me Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold offered Lacey a job, and she started studying for her SATs. Plus she invited him over for dinner. Tinuviel Undomiel prompted that a bad storm means that one of them has to stay the night, and I couldn't resist.

Saturday morning found Lacey waking early, an odd, fluttery feeling in her belly, as though she was nervous.  She burrowed down in the covers a little, tugging the kittens closer as she tried to go back to sleep.  It was barely six, and she had ten minutes before her alarm went off.  The feeling was still there, low and swooping.  It was almost like excitement.  She rolled onto her back, the kittens making tiny _prrp_ noises as she disturbed them.  Gold was coming over that evening.  Was that what she was excited about?  Admittedly she could do with a few good solid orgasms to make up for her week off, but it was more than that.  It was almost as though she had missed _him_ , not just his ability to give her pleasure.

Grumbling to herself, she pushed up out of bed.  Her head ached a little; she and Ruby had gone to the _Rabbit Hole_ , and she had lost count of the shots she had drunk, but she vaguely remembered dancing with Ruby and singing at the top of her voice before they decided to call it a night.  It had been a more than pleasant way to blow off steam, but she suspected that drunken Friday nights would be few and far between for the next couple of months.  She was determined to fit in as much study as possible, and trying to do that with a hangover wasn’t successful, as she knew from experience.  Besides, she wanted to be on top form when she was working for Gold.  He would have no excuse to criticise either her work or her commitment.

She made coffee, bending to feed the kittens, and toasted a bagel as she waited for the coffee to brew.  Talking to Gold about food hadn’t really improved her diet, but at least she put peanut butter on the bagel now, rather than jelly.  It made cleaning  up easier than cooking a proper breakfast, too.  Which was definitely something she needed to do before he came round.

The weather was cold, dark clouds squatting ominously on the horizon, and Lacey shivered as she hurried to the diner, her coat pulled around her.  The wind was picking up, leaves barrelling along the street into the gutters, and she ducked into the warmth of the diner with relief, shrugging off her jacket.

“Right on time,” said Merida, tucking a curl of red hair behind her ear where it had worked loose from the clip.  “Surprised you’re up so early.  Ruby looks like death.”

Lacey sniffed.

“She shouldn’t try to up the pace of the shots, then,” she said, with a grin.  “Is she around?”

“Shower,” said Merida, grinning back.  “I saw her in her PJs with mascara all over her face.  Wish I’d had a camera, would’ve been good blackmail material.”

Lacey chuckled, tying an apron around her waist.

“We all set for the early rush?”

“Just about.”  Merida looked over her shoulder as she stacked clean coffee mugs.  “Could you set out the cutlery?”

Lacey took a tray of clean cutlery and started placing knives and forks on the tables, refilling the napkin holders wherever they needed it.

“I hear you’re leaving us,” said Merida, and Lacey hesitated.

“Yeah.  Monday’s my last shift.”

“Well, we’ll be sorry to see you go.  We should have a girls’ night out next week or something.”

“I’m in.”  She set out the last of the cutlery.

“Working for Gold, though…”  Merida grinned at her.  “Few would envy you, you know.”

“Well, they don’t know him,” said Lacey shortly.  “He’s really okay, as long as you don’t try to screw him.”

She wanted to bite her tongue at the choice of words, and Merida snickered.

“No danger of that from me.”

Lacey shot her a grin.

“Yeah, didn’t think so, somehow.”

She looked up as the door opened, and Leroy almost ran inside, blowing hard and shaking the rain from his coat.

“Hey,” said Lacey.  “Bacon, eggs and coffee, right?”

“Gimme a stack of pancakes, too,” he said, rubbing his hands together.  “I was freezing my ass off on the way here.  There’s a big storm on its way.  You girls be careful you don’t get stuck in the diner when it gets here.”

“When will that be?” asked Merida, looking worried.  Lacey wasn’t surprised; she lived on the edge of town with her three young brothers, in an old house that wasn’t in the best state of repair.  Leroy shrugged.

“Any time between three and seven, depending on what the wind does,” he said.  “But the weather’s gonna be shitty all day and all night, whatever happens."

Lacey’s heart sank as she pulled a coffee cup from the stack for Leroy.  Perhaps Gold wouldn’t want to come over if it was going to be that bad.  Merida sighed.

“Last time we had a storm the power was out for two days,” she said.  “Imagine having to deal with three boys who suddenly have to amuse themselves without the use of electronics.  Bloody nightmare.”  She gave the bar a final wipe-down.  “Looks like I’m stocking up on candles and matches.”

“If there are any in the store by the time we get out,” said Lacey gloomily.  “You know what this town’s like for panic-buying in the face of bad weather.”

“I can get you some,” said Leroy suddenly.  “Get my breakfast out here and I’ll give you ladies all the candles you could want.”

He winked, and Lacey grinned as she poured his coffee.

“Then your breakfast’s on me.”

* * *

The weather grew worse as the day wore on, and Lacey looked anxiously out of the window as she was putting on her coat at the end of her shift.  Leroy had been true to his word, bringing two boxes of thick church candles, and she kissed his cheek as she took one from him.

“You get a free breakfast on Monday, too,” she said.  “I owe you one.”

“Extra bacon’ll clear it,” he said gruffly.  “You be careful out there.  Wind’s picking up.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, as Lacey found to her dismay when she was almost blown across the street.  She dropped the candles off at her apartment, hurrying to the store to stock up on a few other things.  The place was full, townsfolk milling around snatching up anything they could carry.  She was more selective, choosing cereal, milk and cheese (the bread was long gone), along with some crackers and a packet of good cookies.  She got some cat food, too, and two bottles of wine.  Just in case the storm lasted a day or two.

It was a relief to get out of the crowded store, and she hurried along the street with the bags in the crooks of her arms.  Her pace slowed as she reached a crossing, and she took a step back as someone rounded the corner and almost ploughed into her.  She felt herself shrink a little as she saw who it was.  Moe had pulled up, scowling.

“I see you’re prepared, then,” he said.  “Leave anything for the rest of us?”

“No, I have here the contents of the entire store,” said Lacey sarcastically, lifting the bags.  She sighed as he glowered.  What was the point in rising to his taunts?

“There’s no bread left,” she added, more reasonably, “and they’re running low on milk, but everything else is there.”

Moe grunted.  “I was planning to eat at Granny’s tonight anyway.  Didn’t think I’d be welcome, though.”

“My shift is over,” said Lacey, wanting to roll her eyes.  “And even if it wasn’t I’d still serve your dinner without spitting in it.  It’s called working in the service industry.  Customer satisfaction, and all that bollocks.”

Moe grunted again, as though he didn’t believe her, and she made a decision.

“Anyhow, you won’t have to worry about it after Monday,” she said.  “I gave notice.  Granny’s will be a Lacey-free zone, unless I go in to order something.”

“How come?” he asked suspiciously.  “You get fired, or something?”

“I got a new job.”  She raised her chin.  “Mr Gold hired me as his assistant.”

Moe looked her over, a nasty smile spreading across his face.

”Wanted to keep you close, did he?” he sneered.  “I don’t know why you don’t just hang a red light in your window and be done with it.”

She glared at him, but the words stung.

“He’s hired me to _work_!” she snapped.  “I’m setting up his online retail business!  It’s - it’s like twice the money I was on before!”

“Huh,” Moe straightened up.  “Well, maybe you’ll think about helping your old man out sometime.”

Lacey was stunned.

“What, you mean like all those _other_ times I _already_ helped you out?” she demanded.  “How is it I’m always the one to give _you_ money?”

“I raised you and kept a roof over your head for seventeen years!” he snapped.  “You’d think a little gratitude would be in order, but then I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything more.  Not from you.”

She opened her mouth for an angry retort, and a large raindrop splashed on her cheek, stinging her eye with a droplet of water.  Another fell, coursing down beside her nose, and she snapped her mouth shut.

“You’d better get to the store before they run out of crap for you to kill yourself with,” she said.  “Pretty sure that liver cirrhosis won’t happen by itself.”

She stomped past, not waiting for a response.  Why, why _why_ did he have to be such a bastard the entire time?

The encounter had put her in a bad mood, and she slammed the door when she entered the apartment.  She took her frustration out on cleaning, figuring that if Gold called to say he was staying home, at least she could be miserable in a clean apartment.  It was getting dark as the storm rolled in, and Gold was supposed to come over at seven.  She was still waiting for him to call and cancel.  It was almost a surprise when the buzzer went at her door, and she opened it to see him bracing himself with his cane, the wind buffeting his wet hair and the rain glistening on the shoulders of his overcoat.  The rain was driving across the road in thick sheets, obscuring the buildings opposite.  There was a paper bag of groceries in the crook of his free arm, the bag soaked with rainwater, and Lacey quickly let him inside the stairwell.

“I - I didn’t think you’d show,” she said, closing the door behind him.  “Crappy night to be out.  You might not be able to get home.”

Gold sent her a tiny smile, one eyebrow flicking up.

“Is that an issue?” he asked, and she hesitated.

“No,” she said.  “No, you’re welcome to stay, of course.  Come on up.”

She led him into the kitchen, where he slid the bag onto the counter.  Lacey peered inside.

“What’s this?” she asked, lifting out a plastic food box.  “Did you bring dinner?”

“I said I would,” he said.  “It’s _coq au vin_.  I made it yesterday, so we can just heat it through.”

“Sounds fancy,” she said, opening the lid to release a waft of garlic, herbs and the savoury scent of cooked chicken.  “Smells good, though.”

“It’s just chicken in red wine,” he said, unbuttoning his jacket.  “Nothing fancy, just comforting.  I thought I’d do mashed potatoes with it.”

He unfastened his cufflinks with flicks of his thumbs, and rolled up his sleeves.  Lacey felt that she was in the way, so she shifted to the kitchen table and opened the wine, pouring them each a glass.  Thunder rumbled outside, making her flinch, and the lights flickered.  She hoped the power would hold.  Gold looked in all the cupboards, muttered something about steamer inserts, and pulled out a large saucepan, which he proceeded to fill with water to boil.

“You want me to do something?” she asked, as he began peeling potatoes, and he glanced across.

“Yes, you can hand me that wine.”

Lacey pushed his glass across to him, and he took a swig, setting down the glass and going back to his peeling.  She felt a little weird, watching him do all the work in her kitchen, but he’d offered, and the only alternatives she had were cereal or cheese and crackers.  She watched him carefully though; she really did need to learn how to cook more than stuff that came out of plastic microwavable trays.

It didn’t take Gold long to peel and chop the potatoes, and the pan of water was coming to the boil, so he added salt and the chunks of potato, setting a lid on loosely.  The _coq au vin_ went into its own pan, and he turned it onto a low heat, before washing and drying his hands and sliding into the chair opposite Lacey.  She gave him a nervous smile.

“I can’t believe I invited you over and you had to cook,” she said uncomfortably.  “Sorry.”

“Well, perhaps next time you come to mine, you can cook,” he suggested, and she snorted.

“Hope you have the hospital on speed dial.”

“Then I’ll teach you something simple,” he said.  “It could be a team effort.”

“Like it’s gonna be in the shop?”  She took a drink of wine.  “I’ll be needing your input, by the way, when I start doing the cataloguing.  I have no clue what most of that stuff is, or what it’s worth.”

“You’ll find I keep meticulous records.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Gold grinned at that, and she felt herself relax a little more.  He had not rolled his sleeves back down, and it was very distracting.  She wanted to take his tie off to complete the more casual look, and told herself to get a grip.  Thunder rolled outside, a spray of rain lashing the window, and Lacey looked up sharply.

“The storm’s close,” he said, and she shivered.

“I hate storms,” she muttered.  “Have since I was a kid.”

“Well, I think we’ll be quite safe,” he said.  “The power may go out, of course.  Do you have candles?”

“Oh!  Yeah, hang on.”

She got up, hunting for the box of candles, and setting them up on flat surfaces around the kitchen and lounge.  She put some in the bedroom, too, and set the final one on the table in front of them, striking a match to light the wick.

“If the power goes out, at least we’ll be able to see.”

“Good thinking.”  Gold took a drink, reaching down to pet one of the kittens, which had started to wind itself around his ankles.  “Are you looking forward to starting work?”

“Actually, I am,” she said.  “It’ll be nice to do something I find interesting.  And that doesn’t mean I smell like a fryer for hours afterwards.”

“Has Mrs Lucas replaced you?”

“Nah, she’ll just give the others more hours,” said Lacey.  “I guess she’ll get someone else in at some point, though.  They need cover for when people are sick.”

“I take it they’re happy for you.”

“Yeah, they know it’s a good move,” said Lacey, and eyed him a little anxiously.  “I - um - told Ruby, by the way.  About us.”

“Ah.”  Gold put down his glass.  “What did you say?”

Lacey shrugged, unsure what answer he would want her to give.

“That we’d been sleeping together.”

“Ah,” he said again, after a pause.  She wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted to hear or not.  He brushed a hand through his hair, brown and silver strands slipping through his fingers.

“How did she - uh - react?”

“Teased me a little, but otherwise she was cool,” said Lacey.  “She won’t spread it around, either, I promise.  I wouldn’t have told her otherwise.”

“I’m not ashamed,” he said a little stiffly.  “She can say whatever she likes about us, as long as it’s true.”

He seemed irritated by something, and Lacey tried to lighten the mood.

“Well, I told her you were awesome in bed, so there’s a rumour she could spread,” she said.  “If she starts teasing you the next time you go in for coffee, that’s why.”

Lightning flashed in the windows, the thunder crashing around them, and the lights went out.  Lacey let out a yelp, starting in her chair.

“It’s alright.”

Gold’s chair legs scraped the floor as he pushed back, going to the window.

“Yes, the power’s out,” he said.  “The entire town, by the looks of it.  Lightning must have hit the transformers.  Or the wind brought down powerlines, either one.”

“I’d better light the other candles,” she said, and stood up, bringing one of the candles to the table to light it from the one in the centre, and then using that to light the others dotted around the kitchen and lounge.  The light was warm, but it threw shadows around the room, and she shivered as another crash of thunder seemed to rumble through the apartment.  She scurried back to the table, sliding into her seat and bending to scoop up Hagrid, who was trying to climb her leg.  He settled down in her lap, purring as she stroked his ears.

Gold was still looking out of the window, peering up and down the street as though the lights would miraculously come on again.  The potatoes had stopped boiling, the water beginning to cool, and he turned off the two hot plates on the stove.

“It seems a hot dinner’s off the menu.”

“At least we have wine,” she said, and heard his soft chuckle.

“Yes, at least there’s that.”

He rummaged in the bag again, and she caught the whiff of some sort of cheese.

“I brought some bread and cheese that we could eat,” he said.  “Some olives and ham and tomatoes.”

“Oh…”  She pushed to her feet with the kitten cradled in one hand.  “Actually that’d be perfect.  I have crackers, too.  Let me get plates.”

Within five minutes Gold had sliced crusty bread and set out three different cheeses on a plate.  Lacey sat opposite, and there was silence for a while as they cut pieces of cheese and stacked them on bread with thick pieces of tomato or slices of ham.

“Not quite the dinner I planned,” he said.  “But good cheese and wine is always welcome.”

“It’s _really_ good,” she said, her mouth full of bread.  “I tried to get some bread today, but the store was out.  I was lucky to get milk.”

“People do like to hoard in times of crisis.”

“Got that right.”

Lacey plucked an olive from the plastic pot, popping it into her mouth and licking oil and herbs from her fingers.  Gold was watching her, his eyes very dark in the candlelight.  The light made his skin warm, the shadows of his eyes and cheeks deeper and darker.

“I - saw my dad,” she said.  “I told him I’d be working for you.  He’d find out anyway.”

“Everyone will find out,” he said.  “My private business affairs seem to be an interesting topic of conversation in this town.  I can’t imagine why.”  He popped a tomato into his mouth, chewing and swallowing.  “How did he take the news?”

Lacey shifted uncomfortably.  “Honestly?  He was a gross bastard about it.”

“Ah.”  He nodded, taking a drink of wine.  “I suspect he won’t be the first or the last.  People are always quick to assume the worst.  You should be prepared for that.”

“I don’t care,” said Lacey stubbornly, remembering Granny’s assumption that her choice had not been a free one.  “My friends know the truth.  The rest of ‘em can go to hell.”

He grinned, gold tooth flashing.  “Yes, that’s always been my view.”

She drank the last of her wine, and he reached to pour her another glass, adding some to his own.  Lacey ate a final piece of cheese, brushing crumbs from her fingers and pushing her plate away.

“That was good,” she said, with relish.  “Don’t suppose you brought dessert, too?”

“Actually, I did,” he said.  “Chocolate truffle torte, but I bought it from the bakery.”

Lacey could feel that her eyes had grown large and round.

“Is it the one with the _dulce de leche_ swirl?” she said.  “Oh my God, that thing’s better than _sex_!”

“Really?”  Gold took another drink.  “I should up my game.”

She chuckled.  “Believe me, no need.  That was total hyperbole.  Given a choice I know which one I’d go for.”

“That’s very reassuring.”

He smirked a little, popping an olive in his mouth, and Lacey raised an eyebrow.

“You know, if you’re done, I could reassure you some more.”

He blinked.

“Now?”

“If you like,” she said, and jerked her head towards the window.  “It would take my mind off the storm.”

“Well, if it’ll make you feel better, I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said, with a grin, and she swatted his arm.

“Thanks.   _Real_ big of you.  Sorry to be such a damn _burden_.”

His grin widened.

“I’m going to have to insist on no kittens in the bed with us, though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.  Little buggers are way too nosy for their own good.”

She stood up, putting Hagrid in the cat basket and picking up her wineglass and the bottle, tucking the box of matches under her arm.

“Guess I’ll wait in the bedroom for you to bless me with your presence,” she said loftily, and he chuckled.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

“I look forward to it.”

She winked at him, making him laugh again, and walked out with her hips swaying, hearing him stand up.  The candles from the lounge gave enough light to see by, but the bedroom was dark, and so she set down her bottle and wineglass and lit a match, spying the thick candles she had place on the nightstand and dresser and hurrying to light them.  By the time Gold had entered and shut the door, the room was filling with a soft, warm glow.  Lacey moved the wine bottle and her glass to the nightstand, turning to face him, and he put his next to hers.  He was very close, and she inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne.  Her hands reached up to feel the firm warmth of his chest, and she smiled to herself.  Gold crooked a finger under her chin, gently raising her head to meet her eyes.

“What?” he asked softly,

“I’m glad you came over,” she said, and he grinned and bent his head to kiss her.

He tasted salty from the olives, the heady richness of the wine still on his tongue, and she let her hands sink into the softness of his hair as she opened her mouth for him, pressing herself against him.  His cane fell to the floor, his hands sliding up her back, hot against her skin through the thin fabric of her dress, and she longed to have him take it off, for there to be nothing between them, to feel the heat of his skin against hers as he laid her down.  She had missed him.

Gold let himself sink into the kiss, enjoying the feel of her body against his and the light scent of her perfume.  Her hair was up, and his fingers sank into it, finding the pins she had used and pulling them free to let her curls tumble down her back.  His fingers slid down then, searching for a zipper in her dress, and Lacey broke the kiss, leaning back with a grin on her face.

“Just lift it over my head,” she said, and he bent his knees, grasping the hem of the dress and pushing it up over her hips and breasts, tugging it off over her head and rumpling her curls.  He took a moment to look her over, admiring her pale beauty, and slid his hands down to cup her rear, pulling her close as she went to work on his tie.  She got it open, tossing it away as though it offended her, and unbuttoned his waistcoat with a hiss of frustration that made him grin.

“Too many layers?” he asked, and she looked up at him through thick lashes.

“Yes.  But I like undressing you.  Velcro would help, though.”

“I think we can safely say that nothing I wear will ever be fastened with velcro.”

Lacey shrugged, plucking at the buttons of his shirt.

“You say that now.  One of these days I’ll make you give me a lapdance, then we’ll see.”

He burst out laughing at that.

“The mental image is almost painful.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  Her grin was cheeky.  “I’m kind of enjoying it.”

“You’re a minx,” he breathed, and kissed her again as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders.

She fell against him, melting into him, and his hands slipped over her soft skin, unhooking her bra and pushing the straps from her shoulders to let it fall.  She was running her hands up his chest, thumbs rubbing at his nipples and sending jolts of sensation through him, and he groaned into her mouth and swept his tongue across hers, pulling free to kiss down her neck.  Lacey moaned, pressing against him as he sucked on her pulse point, a delicate shudder running through her, and his hand slipped down over her belly to push beneath the waistband of the black lace thong she wore.  He groaned again at the feel of her, soft and wet and ready, and she pushed up on her toes with a tiny cry as his finger stroked her, sliding along wet flesh and seeking out the nub of her clit.

“God, you feel good!” he said softly, his lips brushing her ear.  “Like silk.  Beautiful.”

He sucked in a breath as Lacey pulled at his earlobe with her lips, her teeth nipping him.

“Condoms in the nightstand,” she murmured.

“I have some.”

The thunder rolled again, and she shivered, pressing herself against him, clinging to him.  He pulled the underwear roughly over her hips, letting it fall, and her fingers tugged at his belt, trying to get it open.  Gold kissed down her neck again, sinking his teeth into her soft skin and making her moan.

“On the bed, Lacey,” he whispered.  “On your knees.”

She pulled back from him, glancing up at him through thick eyelashes before climbing onto the bed with her back to him, hands and knees sinking into the blankets.  He took a moment to admire her, pale skin and small, soft curves, her dark hair gleaming in the candlelight.  He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a couple of condoms and throwing them onto the bed beside her before unbuckling his belt and letting the pants fall.

The air in the room was cool, but not cold, and he felt only a brief shiver go through him as he climbed on behind her.  Lacey jerked at his touch, his hands sliding over her hips and underneath to cup her breasts, the nipples poking at his palms as he squeezed her.  She moaned, pushing back against him with her rear, and he let one hand slide down over her belly and between her legs, stroking through wet heat.  Lacey gasped, moving against his fingers, and he rubbed in slow circles, listening to her breathing grow heavy and rapid and feeling the heat from her back where his belly was pressed against it.

She moaned again, and he bent to kiss her pale shoulder, sinking his teeth into her, his free arm curling around her waist to hold her tight.  Her clit was hard and swollen, slick with her fluids, and he drew his tongue across the nape of her neck as he rubbed at her, making her yowl.  She was close, so close, and he ached to be inside her, his cock pushed up against her rear and the rocking motion she was using providing agonising friction.  He pushed his thumb inside her, his fingers still stroking, and Lacey let out a tiny cry, shaking her hair back off her face as her pace quickened.  She came with a series of high, moaning cries, jerking in his arms, her inner muscles squeezing at his thumb as her juices flowed and spread in his palm.  He groaned in response, his touches gentle as she slowed, and Lacey let her head drop, a curtain of dark hair spreading on the pillows as she caught her breath.

Gold slipped his thumb out of her, his hand caressing the curve of her hip, and Lacey looked over her shoulder, her eyes dark and heavy and her mouth full and ripe.  God, she was beautiful!  Her lips curved upwards in a lazy smile.

“Ready?”

He was about ready to burst, and so he tried to draw out the pleasure, sliding two fingers into her one slow inch at a time.  Lacey moaned, turning her head back to face the pillows, and Gold shifted on his knees, reaching between them to line them up, slick fingers grasping his hard flesh and spreading her fluids along its length.  He shuddered as he pushed into her, sinking deep, and Lacey moaned again, pushing back against him until he was all the way inside her.  He groaned in pleasure, her flesh gripping him tightly, and began to thrust, slowly at first, wanting it to last.  She was moving too, her hips rocking, pulling at him, and the feel of her was enough to make him want to quicken his pace, to make himself come, to pour himself into her.

He gritted his teeth, focusing on her body, on the way the muscles in her back and shoulder stretched and bunched, the way light and shadow played across her ribs and shoulderblades and in the dark groove of her spine.  He ran his hands up her back, enjoying the contrast between his tanned skin and her pale beauty, and Lacey moaned, throwing her head back as he thrust deep.  Gold grasped her dark hair, winding it around his hand and tugging her back against him as his other hand reached between her legs again.  Lacey cried out, and he bent low over her back, his mouth near her ear, her hair wrapped around his hand, a dark, silken rope.

“God, you feel amazing!” he growled.  “I could spend all night fucking you, Lacey.  So many ways.  So many ways I could make you come.”

He was still thrusting into her, and he could feel his climax approaching, ready to wash over him.  He quickened his pace, his thrusts long and deep, pounding into her, and Lacey let out a series of cries as he slammed into her, her body tugging at his.  He came with a long, low groan of pleasure, pulsing deep inside her, his pace rapid as she pulled every drop from him.  Eventually he slowed, his breath coming hard in his chest, his body slumping onto hers and his limbs shaking.

There was silence for a moment but for the sound of heavy breathing, and he gently kissed the smooth skin of her back as he pulled out of her.  There was heat between them, heat and sweat and the scent of their pleasure, and Gold rolled onto his back with a hissing exhalation, glancing across to where she was still on her hands and knees with her head bent.  He reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear so that he could see her face.

“Come here,” he said softly, and she turned her head to face him.

“What?”

“Come here.”

He put a hand on her arm, and she pushed herself upright on her knees, giving him a quizzical look.  Gold grinned.

“If you could get those knees either side of my head, it would be perfect.”

Lacey bit back a grin.

“Okay, you asked for it.”

She climbed across him, sliding her knees into position either side of his neck, and he reached up with his thumbs to part her folds.  He licked his lips at the sight of her, dusky pink flesh slick with her fluids, and Lacey reached above him to grip the bedstead as he swept his tongue over her tender skin.  His hands slid around to squeeze her buttocks, pulling her against his face, his tongue stabbing and thrusting and stroking, and she moaned, pushing herself into him, rocking against him.  He was covered in her pleasure, salt and musk and heat, her clit a hard pearl beneath his tongue, and she pushed her fingers through his hair as she rode him, her moans growing louder.  His tongue rubbed over her again, and she came with a cry, the tightness in her muscles flooding out with her release, salty-sweet cum spattering his tongue, and he could feel himself twitch in renewed interest as he licked every drop from her.

Lacey could still see stars in her vision, bright colours bursting in her head as she tried to steady her breathing.  She pushed back, sliding down his body a little before rolling off onto her back and throwing an arm up over her eyes as her chest heaved.

“Alright?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just blown every circuit in her body and mind, and she felt herself nod.

“I trust that took your mind off the storm,” he added.

The truth was it had taken her mind off everything.  The storm, her past hurts, studying for the SATs, her earlier fight with her dad…  

Lacey chewed her lip, a sudden melancholy washing over her.  The time she spent with him was incredible, but her enjoyment was clouded by the ever-present thought that this was a fleeting thing, doomed to end.  Her father had said that Gold would tire of her, and she was certain he was right.  He would move on to someone with money and prospects and the ability to talk about the things in which he was interested, and she would still be - just her.  For the first time, she thought that she fully understood why he wanted to give her a new job and the opportunity to take the SATs.  He was preparing her for a future without him being there to pick up the pieces.  She was going to have to make her own way, which she was used to, but he was giving her something she hadn’t had previously.  He was giving her options.


	17. The Midas Touch

The storm was still at its height, the wind driving sheets of rain against the windows, and thunder still crashing around the apartment, making Lacey flinch.  The bed dipped as Gold got up, and she listened with half an ear as he went to the bathroom.  Her face was flushed, her body covered in sweat, and she supposed she ought to get into bed.  She didn’t move until he returned though, lifting the arm over her eyes to look him over as he picked up his glass of wine.  Nice arse, she thought.  Nice everything, if she was honest, and very good in bed.  Bastard looked bloody smug about it, too, his eyes twinkling at her as he took a drink.

“Aren’t you getting cold?” he asked, and she sighed.

“A little, I guess.  Did you blow out the candles in the kitchen and the lounge?”

“I did.  The kittens are in their basket.”

She wriggled, pushing her feet beneath the blankets and sitting up so that she could lean back against the pillows.  Gold got in beside her, pulling the blankets up around his waist, and she picked up her wine glass, clinking it against his.  He put an arm around her, settling back with a sigh, and she leaned into him, enjoying his warmth.  There was silence for a moment as they sipped at their wine, and the thunder rumbled overhead, making her shudder.  Lightning flashed in the windows, the rain lashing against the glass, and Gold’s arm was a comforting weight around her.

“How are the studies going?” he asked.  “I saw books in your kitchen.”

She sent him a wry grin.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“Not much, no.”

“It’s going okay, actually,” she admitted.  “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m enjoying it.  The English stuff, especially.”

“Good.”  He took a sip of his wine.  “Have you - would you ever give any thought to going to college?”

“Can’t afford it,” she said gloomily.

“I’m not suggesting you go,” he said.  “Just making conversation.  Let’s say money was no object, would you want to go?”

She hesitated.

“Yes,” she said eventually.  “I think I would.  I never really gave any thought to it before, but…”  She cut off, staring into her glass.

“But what?”

“Well, I love reading,” she admitted.  “And - and honestly I really liked school up until I was about sixteen and everything started kind of falling apart around me.”

“When things went wrong at home,” he said.  “That’s not surprising.”

“Things were wrong for years before that,” she said quietly.  His fingers had started stroking her shoulder gently, and it felt nice.

“It’s never too late, you know,” he said.

“Sometimes it is.”  She took a swallow of wine, and shot him a look.  “What about you, then?  You go to college?  You must have, to know how to draw up contracts and stuff.  Or was that something you learned on - on whatever job it was you had that got you all this property.”

“Oh, I went to law school,” he said, surprising her.  “Harvard, actually.  I qualified as a lawyer.  Used to work for a big firm in Delaware.”

“Huh.”  Lacey tried to process this new information.  “How come you ended up running a pawnshop in Maine?  I mean, I guess some people want a little quiet after stressful corporate shit, but even so…”

Gold smiled thinly.

“Yes, retiring to a backwater small town wasn’t the plan,” he said quietly.

“So, what happened?”

He sighed, looking weary.

“Bad choices,” he said.  “Bad choices born out of fear.  I have no one to blame but myself.”

“Sounds serious,” she said nervously.

“It was.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t elaborate, and she wasn’t inclined to push him.  There was silence for a moment, an awkward, heavy silence, and she decided to bring the subject back to study.

“So, you went to Harvard?” she said.  “Must have cost you a fortune.”

“Well, in those days things were easier,” he said.  “There were a lot of avenues for funding education, especially if you had a less than auspicious start in life.  My aunts encouraged me to study hard, but I was working at the same time, so I was damn sure I wanted more out of life than Glasgow Fish Market could offer me.”

“Yeah.”  Lacey pulled a face.  “I’m guessing that would have been quite the motivation to get off your arse and study.”

“Four a.m. on a freezing December day, up to my eyes in mackerel guts,” he said dryly.  “I made bloody sure I hit the books every night.”

“Sounds worse than waitressing.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said.  “I’m told it built character.”

“Well, you’re definitely a character, no question there.”

He grinned at her, and took another sip of wine.

“I got a grant to go to Oxford,” he said.  “And yes, the place was full of toffs and fucking snobs, but there were decent people, too.  Studied law, and went on to Harvard.  Again, with the help of grants and scholarships.  I couldn’t have done it otherwise.  Still worked, though.”

“Ever wait tables?”

“Frequently.”

Lacey pulled a face, and he laughed.

“So I’m always polite and tip well,” he added, and she grinned.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

He took another drink of wine, and she watched him out of the corner of her eye, his hair hanging in his face a little, the candlelight shining on his cheekbones and along the length of his nose.  She wanted to ask him something, was _itching_ to ask him, but she wasn’t sure how he’d react, given his response the last time she had tried.  Still, he seemed to be in the mood to open up a little, so she decided to go for it.  Gold let his head roll back against the pillows, still caressing her shoulder, and glanced across at her.

“I realise your situation is very different to mine,” he said.  “But I’d like you to think that there’s no avenue that’s closed to you, if you want it.  Should the SATs give you the impetus to go to college, there’s nothing stopping you.”

“Apart from poverty, insecurity, lack of direction…”

“I just…”  Gold closed his eyes for a moment before looking at her.  “I just want you to think about it.  That’s all.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll think about it,” she sighed.  “But on one condition.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Oh yes?”

“Yeah.”  She wriggled on the bed, turning to face him.  “You tell me what it was that made you get so drunk I had to almost carry you here that night.”

For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer.  His jaw had tightened, his eyes growing heavy and saddened.  His arm fell away from her, and he pushed himself up a little straighter.  She thought he was going to leave, and she wanted to take the question back, swallow it down where it couldn’t hurt him, but then he took another drink of wine.  A big one.

“I lost my son,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”  She shrank back a little.   _Shit.  Shitshitshit, Lacey, why couldn’t you keep your fucking mouth shut?_

“I’m - I’m so sorry,” she said.  “How - how old would he have been?”

Gold pulled a face, his mouth twisting.

“He’s not dead,” he said.  “He’s just - lost.  Lost to me, anyway.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, and Gold sighed, running a hand over his face.

“His mother, Milah - well, she and I weren’t suited,” he explained.  “My son wasn’t planned, but I loved him from the moment I knew he was coming.  When he was born…”  He shook his head.  “I can’t explain it.  It was like my entire life changed, in the most amazing way.  His name is Bae.  Bailey.”

Lacey nodded.  “So what happened?”

Gold sighed again, leaning back a little.

“Milah didn’t take to mothering,” he said.  “We hadn’t been getting along for a while, and a new baby didn’t help things, but to give her her due, she did stick around.  At first.  We agreed after eighteen months or so that it wasn’t going to work out, but we shared custody of Bae.”

“And then?”

Gold let his head drop, his mouth twitching.

“What happened next was my fault,” he said quietly.  “I was - when I was younger, I was a very different person.  I made some of my money in less than legal ways, shall we say.  Things caught up with me, and I got sent down.  Ironically enough, the day I got sentenced was also Bae’s birthday.  Fourth of October, 1995.  He was six.  That’s when my life truly went to shit, and I had no one to blame but myself.”

“Oh.”  Lacey shifted uncomfortably.  “So, that’s what you meant earlier when you said you’d made bad choices?”

“Indeed.”

“How long were you inside for?”

“Ten years,” he said heavily, and she winced.

“Shit!  What the hell did you do?”

Gold raised his head, looking at her steadily, and she shrank back a little.

“Okay, never mind,” she said.  “I mean - I mean it _matters_ , but it’s not like we’re seriously bonding and thinking we’re soulmates, here.  You can tell me when you’re ready.  If you ever are, I mean.”

He blinked.  “Right,” he said, sounding a little surprised.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get kicked out,” she added.  “I’m guessing felonies aren’t great for your immigration status.”

“By that point I was a naturalised citizen,” he said, his voice dry.  “And had excellent connections with people who owed me favours.  That’s also how I managed to start again here in Maine.  I didn’t lose everything, by any means.  Just the one thing that actually mattered.”

“How did it lead to you losing your son?” she asked.

Gold took another drink.

“Milah stuck around for a little longer after I got sent away,” he said.  “Then she ran off with some sailor.”

“Fan of the cliché, huh?” remarked Lacey, and he sent her a twisted smile.

“I don’t much care what she did or how she lived,” he said.  “As I said, Bae was only six when I went to prison.  From what I heard, he came home from school one day and she had gone.  She had left food in the kitchen and put in a call to Social Services.  With his mother gone and his father in prison…”

“Foster care?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“A home, at first,” he said.  “But yes, foster care.  Shunted from one family to another, never settled, never getting any love or support…  i mean, don’t get me wrong, there are very good and well-meaning people who foster children.  But there are also creeps, and sadists, and those who simply don’t care about the vulnerable kids they’ve agreed to protect.”

“Yeah,” said Lacey quietly.  “I get that.”  

“By the time I got out, he was sixteen,” he went on.  “The first thing I did was look for him.  It took a while to track him down.”

“So - you did find him, then,” said Lacey.  “That’s something, I guess.”

Gold shrugged, running a hand through his hair and looking weary.

“I went to visit him as soon as I could,” he said.  “He was all I could think of in prison.  I’d sent letters, presents, money...  I never heard anything back, but I hoped - I hoped that maybe, just maybe, we might stand a chance.”

“I take it that it went badly,” she said, and he nodded.

“He slammed the door in my face,” he said.  “After yelling that I was a shitty father and a terrible person and it was all my fault his life sucked.”

“Woah.”  Lacey winced.  “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong, was he?” said Gold dryly.  “It _was_ my fault.  In his eyes I abandoned him, I couldn’t protect him…”  He cut off, shaking his head.  “I have no idea what happened to him, all those years.”

“You - you think it was something bad?” she asked nervously, and he shrugged.

“Perhaps not as bad as my imagination made it,” he said.  “Perhaps worse, I don’t know.  And that’s the point, isn’t it?  I have no idea what my own son went through, and he won’t talk to me about it.”

“But - but that must have been some time ago,” she said.  “How old is he now?  He must be an adult.”

Gold sighed, leaning back.

“He is,” he said wearily.  “But he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Oh.”  She chewed her lip.  “Did you - did you try to talk to him?”

“Of course I did,” he said testily.  “I’ve tried, Lacey.  So often.  I’ve tried writing to him, I’ve tried turning up on his doorstep…  He won’t speak to me.  Last time I visited him, he threatened me with a restraining order.  I couldn’t bear that.  I couldn’t bear for some judge to tell me that I have no right to see my own son.  So I backed off.  All I can do now is wait for him to come to me, and hope to hell that he does.”

Lacey was silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said eventually.  “That’s a super-shitty situation.  Sounds like he won’t even give you the chance to make it right.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Gold, sounding tired.  “I understand how he must have felt.  Abandoned.  Betrayed.  I never - I never wanted that for him.  When he was small I told him I would always be there, that I would never leave him.  It just turned out to be another lie.”

“That wasn’t your fault!” she protested.

“Of course it was,” he said quietly.  “I can’t blame him for wanting nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe it’s not too late,” she suggested, and he sent her a brief smile.

“I hope not.”  He kissed her forehead.  “It appears we’ve grown rather maudlin.”

“Sorry,” she said.  “I didn’t think bringing up the past would hurt so much.”

Gold eyed her over the top of his glass.

“Didn’t you?”

“Well, not _this_ much,” she allowed.  “I guess I should.  My own past pretty much sucks from beginning to end.  I guess I expected yours to be better.”

“I think there’s a reason we’re both reluctant to be open about these things, don’t you?” he asked calmly, and she met his eyes.

“Maybe.”  She chewed her lip.  “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

He kissed her again.

“Why don’t you go and cut us two pieces of that chocolate torte?” he suggested.  “I hear it’s better than sex, and I’d like to assess this claim for myself.”

Lacey chuckled, setting her glass aside.

“Okay, but I’m gonna need to sample one straight after the other, otherwise it’s not fair.”

He winked at her.

“Agreed.”

* * *

Gold was jerked out of sleep by a nudge.  At first he was barely awake, and settled himself in the pillows, trying to drift into sleep again.  A whimpering made his eyes flick open, and there was a thrashing of limbs from the woman next to him.

“Lacey,” he whispered, and turned to face her.  She flailed, whimpering again, and he slid his arms around her, kissing her cheeks, her mouth.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured, and she jerked in his arms with a loud gasp as she woke.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, and kissed her again, her mouth soft and warm against his.

Lacey clung to him, her heart thumping and her breathing unsteady as the dark threads of her nightmare began unravelling, freeing her.  She tried to catch her breath, letting his heat sink into her, his hands caressing her.

“Nightmare,” she said.  “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s no problem.”

He was still stroking her back, holding her close, and she let out a heavy sigh as she began to relax.  Gold reached up to brush her hair back from her face.  They had blown out the candles before snuggling together beneath the blankets to sleep, warm and sticky and sated.  Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could make out his features, shades of blue in the dim light, the silvery points of his eyes.  A thumb swept over her cheek, brushing her lip, and she swallowed hard.  Lightning flashed, bathing him in silver, and the crack of thunder made her wince.  Gold kissed her gently.

“When you said you hated storms, I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, wondering if she should tell him why.  She decided that given his own honesty that night, she owed him an explanation.

“It - it was my mum, you see,” she ventured.  “I told you she died.”

“A car crash, you said.”

Lacey nodded.

“There was a storm that night, too,” she said.  “A terrible one, thunder and lightning crashing around us.  The wind rattling the windows so hard I thought they were gonna come through.”

He nodded, and she took a breath.

“Mum was working down in Portland,” she said.  “Some flower wholesaler she was looking into.  Dad had told her to find a hotel, stay off the road, but - but she said she wanted to get back to read me a story.  She never made it.”

“I’m so sorry, Lacey,” he whispered, and she shrugged a little, chewing her lip.

“I’ve hated them ever since,” she said.  “It - it always feels as though I’m about to lose someone.”

He kissed her forehead gently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.  “I’ll stay with you all night.”

“Stay until the storm goes?” she whispered.

“I promise.”

She reached up to kiss him, and he opened his mouth for her, the taste of him sweet on her tongue.  He was gentle, his lips stroking over hers, his tongue sliding inside as he pushed up against her.  She could feel him harden against her leg, his hands sliding down over her curves, and she wanted him, wanted him inside her, making her forget about everything but how he made her feel.  His hair was brushing her cheeks, soft against her skin, and he kissed down her neck, sucking gently at her and making her moan.  She reached out to the side, clutching desperately with her fingers until she snagged one of the condoms she had dropped on the nightstand earlier that evening.  Gold raised his head at the rustle of the foil packet, and took it from her, kissing down over her breasts, shifting his body beneath the blankets as he moved lower, his stubble scraping her belly.

Lacey threw her head back with a moan as he stroked his tongue up between her legs, a low groan coming from him as he tasted her.  Lightning flashed outside again, and she closed her eyes as the thunder rolled, concentrating on the feel of him, the wet brush of his tongue against her and the jolt of sensation, the rough feel of new stubble against tender skin and the softness of his hair.  She arched her back, moaning again as he licked at her, his hands pushing her thighs apart, his tongue flickering over her.  She could feel the sensations building in her, burning and seething as they rose up through her body, and he slipped a finger inside her, making her arch up with a cry as he pushed deep.  His tongue stroked and slipped and circled, and she was panting for breath, gasping for breath, her heart pounding and cheeks flushed with heat.

She broke with a cry, jerking at his touch, falling back in the bedclothes as he licked at her, and Gold slipped his finger out, licking her as he groaned in pleasure.  He began kissing his way back up her body, and she tried to catch her breath, hearing the rustle of the condom package as he put it on.  His head broke cover, hair damp at the ends, sticking to his cheeks where her juices made his skin glisten, and she brushed his hair back from his face, raising her head to kiss him hungrily.

He pressed up against her, hard and hot, and she canted her hips, trying to capture the head of his cock with her flesh and making him smile against her mouth.  One hand slid down between them, guiding him into her, and he pushed slowly inside, sinking deep with a rough, satisfied groan that made her belly clench.  She lifted her knees, wrapping her legs around him, and he pushed up, sliding his hands up her arms and threading his fingers through hers as he began to move.  His thrusts were long and slow, his hips rolling a little, grinding against her, and Lacey gasped as he rubbed at her, the hard length of him inside her and the friction between them making her bite her lip.

He released her hands, shifting on his elbows, reaching up to touch her face as he kissed her.  His thumb slid across her lip, over her cheek, and he pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue softly stroking.  Lacey moaned, her hands moving up to grip his shoulders, and his fingers slid into her hair, making her shiver.  He was still moving in those slow circles, building the sensations, and she let her own hands sink into the soft strands of his hair, feeling him grow rigid inside her, knowing he was as close to the edge as she.

Wind rattled the windows, the rain spattering against the glass as thunder rumbled, and Gold gently broke the kiss, looking down at her as he quickened the pace a little, his fingers caressing her cheeks.  She could feel it then, building inside her, and she whispered an affirmation as bliss washed over her, a wave of molten gold that flowed across her skin and turned her to gossamer threads with the touch of his fingers, breaking apart with her cry of joy, drifting on the air like dust motes.  Her vision went black, and she clung to him as she felt him come inside her, his low cry almost desperate.

The pale half-light in the room returned, and she settled back in the sheets with a sigh, feeling her heart thump and listening to their heavy, panting breath.  Gold pushed up on his elbows a little more, beginning to soften inside her, and she looked up at him, his eyes dark and warm.  She ran her tongue across her lips, tasting the salt of their mingled sweat and swallowing it down.  His hair was hanging in her face, and she reached up to stroke it back, damp strands catching on her fingers.  Her hand cupped his cheek, feeling the rasp of new stubble against her skin, and he smiled, heavy-lidded eyes crinkling at the corners.  He pressed his forehead to hers in a brief gesture of affection, and it was then that she felt something inside her shift, and her breath caught in her throat.  Lacey swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to clear the sting of unshed tears in her eyes.  She was in love with him, utterly and completely in love with him, and the thought was terrifying.


	18. The Way That We Rust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey realised that she was head over heels in love with Gold, and it's kind of freaked her out a little.

Gold was unused to feeling so content on waking.  He was wonderfully warm, his muscles aching pleasantly, and Lacey’s scent was filling his head.  Memories of the previous evening oozed into his brain, making him smile, and he licked his lips as though he would still catch the taste of her.  He reached out with a hand, hoping to pull her close, but the bed beside him was cold.  An odd sensation registered, something smooth and warm, patting his nose, and he opened his eyes.  The black kitten was watching him curiously, a paw reaching out to touch him with velvet pads, and he felt his grin widen.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”

He pushed himself up, throwing back the covers and making the kitten scamper away, and hunted for his clothes.  He presumed Lacey was already up and dressed.  It would have been nice to wake up beside her for once, and the first tingles of anxiety were starting to form, deep in his belly, as he thought about the possible reasons for her absence.  It had felt strange to talk about Bae with her; it had been so long since he had spoken to anyone about that, and he wasn’t sure what had made him decide to be open with her.  Perhaps her own fear and vulnerability, putting him in the unfamiliar position of wanting to protect and care for someone.  He wasn’t sure he was any good at it, and her absence from the bedroom made him wonder if he had shared too much, been too open.  Acted too much as though they were an item, instead of - well, whatever the hell this was.  Or perhaps she was regretting being open with him about her own past.  He could understand that, too.  Either way, he was pretty sure he had fucked up.

It took him a little while to get dressed and button everything, and his shirt was badly crumpled from where it had lain on the floor all night.  It would have to do until he got home, and he smoothed the front as best he could, knotting his tie.

Lacey was in the kitchen, standing with her back to him and gazing out of the window, but she turned as he entered, sending him a smile that seemed a little thin.

“Hey,” she said.  “Still no power, so no coffee.  Sorry.”

“No matter.”  He glanced out of the window at the clear blue sky.  “At least the storm is over.”

“Yeah.”  She held up her phone.  “Leroy texted me.  Power company says it’ll be back on later today, with any luck.”

She slipped the phone into her pocket, wrapping her arms around herself and looking down.  The anxious feeling began stealing through him, icy pinpricks crawling over his skin.

“We could try Granny’s,” he suggested.  “I’m pretty sure she has backup generators.”

“Yeah, I guess.”  She hunched her shoulders.  “I - I was kind of wanting to study today.  Thought I’d get some in while I can.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, and he wanted to sigh.  They had been so in tune the previous night, or so he had thought.  They had shared secrets and opened up, and when he had woken her from her nightmare and comforted her in the best way he knew, it had been different.  It had been like making love.  She had been silent afterwards, chewing her lip and not meeting his eyes, and so he hadn’t pushed it, simply spooning up behind her and feeling her relax as she slipped back into sleep.  She seemed to pull back whenever he thought he was getting close to her.  He supposed he could understand that, being used to keeping others at arm’s length as he did.  It was bloody infuriating, though.  He decided to give her space, as that appeared to be what she wanted.

“I’ll have to say no to coffee anyway, I have some things to take care of today,” he said briskly, straightening his cuffs.  “Looks as though you’re busy, too.  I suppose we’ll see each other on Wednesday, when you start work.”

Lacey blinked at him, uncertainty warring with what looked like hurt in her eyes.  Okay, so maybe he _didn’t_ understand her.

“Yeah,” she said eventually.  “Yeah, I guess.  Wednesday morning, bright and early.”

“I open at eight-thirty,” he said lamely.  Lacey nodded.  She knew that, of course.  He had no idea why he had said it.  She was shifting a little awkwardly from foot to foot, and after a moment’s hesitation, he decided to reach out again.

“But if you wanted to meet for coffee beforehand,” he added, “I could see you in Granny’s.  Assuming the power’s back on.”

Her face brightened a little.  God, he had no clue what she was thinking.

“Okay, sure,” she said.  “We’ll start the day with a double-shot of caffeine.  Got a feeling I’m gonna need it.”

“Yes.”  His hands opened and closed on the handle of his cane, and he gestured at the pans of potatoes and _coq au vin_ he had started to cook the night before.  “You - uh - you can heat that through if you like.  Should do you a couple of meals.”

“Thanks.”  Lacey glanced at the stove.  “Fingers crossed I can have it tonight.  Potatoes is something I can actually cook.  Kind of.”

He wavered, wondering if he should kiss her, and deciding that she didn’t want him to.

“Right,” he said.  “Well.  Wednesday, then.”

“See you around,” she said carelessly, and he nodded and backed away, heading for the door and wanting to bang his head against the wall as he went down the stairs.

* * *

Lacey listened to the door close, feeling anxious and awkward, and hating it.  She was aware that he wasn’t sure how to react to her coolness, but having been hit with a deluge of feelings that she didn’t know what to do with, running and hiding in the kitchen had seemed like the best option.  She had woken in his arms, warm and safe and content, until the reality of what she was feeling, and their whole situation, had made her panic and bolt.  Perhaps it had been the storm, and her being overemotional.  Perhaps she would see him on Wednesday and feel nothing for him but the faint sense that she wanted to screw his brains out.  Perhaps she could be casual about this whole thing. _And while you’re at it, perhaps you’ll get a 1580 on the SATs and every college in the country will beat down the door to enrol you_ , she thought dryly.   _Admit it, you bloody idiot.  You fell in love with the man.  You knew full well it could never last, and you fell in love with him anyway.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Mentally yelling at herself didn’t make her feel any better, and so she made herself a dish of cereal - the milk was still okay, so there was that - and drank a tall glass of water.  Study would put him out of her mind, at least.  She was enrolled for the tests, and the second of December wasn’t that far away, really.  Sighing to herself, she reached for the books.  At least she could do her best in this.  Maybe he’d even be proud.

* * *

She had to work the next day, her final, early shift at the diner before her new job, and she was surprised to find that she enjoyed it.  Perhaps it was the air of excitement that she felt, despite her inner turmoil, or the fact that Leroy bought her flowers and kissed her cheek when she brought out his breakfast (extra bacon).  Granny and the other girls had got her a card and a present of a new black shirt and skirt, which she planned to wear on her first day.  Ruby had slipped one of the little aprons into her bag as well, causing raised eyes.  She had shrugged, grinning.

“Just in case you feel like a bit of roleplay with - anyone,” she said innocently, making Lacey blush and glare at her.

She spent the rest of the day studying, refusing Ruby’s offer of a night out, but agreeing to meet on Wednesday evening to talk about how her first day had gone.  The power was back on, and so she studied late into the night, her eyes burning when she finally pushed her books aside.

On Tuesday she decided to take a break and do some chores, and so she went into town to stock up on food with her last paycheck from the diner.  There was something else she needed to do, but it meant she would have to speak to her father, and so she had been putting it off for a few days, unable to deal with the inevitable confrontation.

The late October day was crisp and bright, and she breathed deeply as she left her apartment, enjoying the cold scent of the air.  She had spent the evening hunched over her books, and so she rolled aching shoulders, glancing down the street to where her father’s shop sat, its front bedecked with hanging baskets filled with ivy and winter pansies.  The infamous metal flamingos stood guard outside, and Lacey raised her chin.  She would have to go in.

It had been the conversation with Gold that had made up her mind.  She usually went to her mother’s grave once a month, just to clear the weeds and brush dust from the stone.  Sometimes she took flowers, but she hadn’t done that for a few months now, as the only place in town to buy them was _Game of Thorns_.  She had decided that caring for the grave was more important than how she felt about her father, and so she was about to pay him a visit.

The shop smelt the same, fresh and green, with the heady scent of roses near the counter.  Moe French was making up a bouquet, wrapping pink florist’s ribbon around the stems, and his mouth flattened as she walked up.

“Hey,” said Lacey.  “I wanted to take some flowers to Mum’s grave.”

He grunted, turning away.

“Haven’t seen you do that in a while.”

“When was the last time you went?”

He didn’t answer, and she sighed.

“Look, just make me up a small bunch of whatever’s pretty,” she said.  “You know what she liked, I don’t really remember.”

“You’ll be paying for it.”

“Obviously.”   _Not as though you’d give me anything, is it?_

He finished the bouquet he was working on, setting it aside, and reached into the plastic tubs at his feet for carnations and chrysanthemums.  He glanced at her as he worked, and Lacey shifted from foot to foot, feeling his disappointment.

“Did you get anyone to help out?” she asked.  “You could do with someone to cover the shop while you make deliveries.”

“I can’t afford an assistant,” he said sourly.  “Honest businessmen don’t have money to burn, you know.”

It was a blatant dig at Gold, but she ignored it.

“Just get one of the high school seniors,” she said.  “They could do a couple of hours after class.”

“I thought that you would help me out, like you used to,” he said.  “Guess not.”

“You never paid me,” she said impatiently.  “I can’t live on fresh air, I have bills and rent to pay.”

Moe snorted.  “Do you?  Gotta say I’m surprised.”

She was about to ask him what he meant, but figured she could guess, so she ignored that, too.  He added some greenery to the bouquet, his eyes flicking across to her.

“Walking around town in the middle of the morning, huh?” he said.  “What happened to this great new job of yours?”

“It was my last day at Granny’s yesterday,” she said coldly.  “I start tomorrow.  Signed a contract and everything.”

“I’m not gonna ask what the terms were,” he said, and she flushed.

“Yeah, clause thirteen says I have to blow him on Friday afternoons between three and three-thirty,” she said sarcastically.  “Better bring your rent payment in the morning, instead.”

Moe frowned.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, haven’t you?” he said.  “I never raised you to be like this.”

“You barely raised me at all!”

She was getting angry now, and the way his thick fingers fumbled at the flower stalks was annoying her further.  No doubt his hands were shaking from the drink.  He cut a length of ribbon, winding it around the bunch, and pushed it across the counter.

“Twenty bucks.”

“ _How_ much?”

Moe shrugged.  “You can afford it, right?  Must be some perks to being Gold’s whore.”

Shaking with anger, she shoved a hand in her purse and pulled out a ten dollar bill and two fives, slapping them on the desk.

“Better learn as much as you can while you’ve got the chance,” he said gruffly.  “I’m guessing you’ll be looking for a new job within six months.  Business and pleasure don’t mix, my girl.”

“Like you’d know.”

“I know _him_ ,” said Moe, popping open the cash register and putting the money inside.  “The man’s a snake.  A snake who takes what he wants.  The moment he decides he doesn’t want _you_ , I’m guessing you’re out on your arse.  So don’t burn your bridges.  You might need that diner uniform yet.”

She glowered at him, insecurity crawling through her, and he sent her a wry, ugly grin.

“Unless of course you think he might actually have feelings for you,” he said snidely.  “In which case I’ll wait for the happy announcement that the richest guy in town is content to have everyone else’s sloppy seconds.”

Lacey’s jaw worked, and she grasped the flowers and turned on her heel, striding from the shop.  Tears pricked her eyes, encouraged by the cold breeze, and she blinked rapidly, setting off up the street towards the outskirts of town, and the cemetery.  She was seething with a mix of rage and humiliation, but a part of her whispered that her father was right, and that thought was too painful for words.

* * *

Gold had kept himself busy by reorganising some of the stock in the shop, in preparation for Lacey’s arrival.  His records were accurate and complete, but he spent all of Sunday and Monday going through each of the items currently for sale on his shelves, checking its description and provenance and deciding whether it deserved space in the shop or should be relegated to the back room.  It was exactly the sort of task he needed, keeping him busy enough that he didn’t dwell too much on the fragile state of his non-relationship.  He had avoided the diner, knowing it was Lacey’s last day, and hoping that her colleagues would take some of the pressure off her.  It would be strange to go in for coffee and not see her.  The brief thought that perhaps they might go together each day had evaporated.  She seemed to want to withdraw from him, and he knew better than to push his way in where he wasn’t wanted.

By Tuesday afternoon he had finished sorting the stock and was going through one of his rent ledgers when the bell rang above the door.  A glance up made him sigh to himself, and he set down his pen.  Miss Green strode up to the counter in a swirl of skirts, her dark green coat flaring behind her and her curls bouncing on her shoulders.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” she said.  “I want to talk to you about the farm.”

“I trust there isn’t a problem?” he said neutrally, and she smiled.  It made his teeth ache.

“Not at all,” she said.  “It’s just that I wanted to make some alterations, and I’m aware that as landlord, you’ll want to look them over.”

Gold leaned on the desk, hands poised on splayed fingers.  She had his attention now.  Tenants taking it into their heads to make improvements without consulting him had cost him dearly in the past.

“I’ll want to see the plans and give my express approval before any work is done, yes.”

“Oh, it’s not the farmhouse itself,” she said airily.  “I just want to put up some greenhouses and ducting for the water supply, it’s nothing to cause you concern.”

“I’ll want to see the plans,” he repeated.  “And give my express approval.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.  “I have the preliminary drawings.  I can bring them in this week.”

“Wonderful.”

He waited for her to go, but instead she stepped nearer, leaning on the counter.  It made him want to pull back, but he met her gaze as calmly as he could.

“I could bring them here, of course,” she said.  “Or you could come out to the farm.”

“It’s not me that wants to make improvements.”

“You could see what I’ve done with the place,” she said.  “The kitchen, for example.  I make an excellent pie.  I’d be happy to cut you a piece.”

She was grinning at him, and he decided that he had had enough.

“Miss Green, I’m at a loss to understand why it is you seem to think we’re old friends,” he said impatiently.  “I’m not aware that our paths have ever crossed, and yet since you came to this town you have been displaying a disturbing amount of over-familiarity.  Had we met before and I simply wiped it from my mind?”

Zelena pushed back from the counter, looking irritated.

“No,” she said, after a pause.  “And there’s no need to be so hostile, I can take a hint.”

“Really?”  He turned back to his ledger.  “And here I was thinking you were simply a budding stalker with too much free time.”

She pulled back with a huff.  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferably rude?”

Gold showed his teeth.

“Frequently.  Do I look like I care?”

“Well, fortunately I have a very thick skin,” she said with a sniff.  “It takes a lot to knock me down.”

“That is fortunate indeed,” he said.  “For you.”

“I’ll see you later in the week, then,” she said.  “If you’re in agreement, we can sit down and discuss any terms.”

“My office hours are eight-thirty until six,” he said.  “And I’m in no mood to make exceptions, so do please remember that.”

She huffed again, tossing her hair.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll see you on Friday, I expect.”

“I am almost breathless with anticipation.”

Her mouth flattened, and she whirled away and stormed out, making him grin.  Bloody irritating woman!  There was something familiar about her, though.  Something he couldn’t quite place.  Her appearance in the small town, seemingly with no connection there, was unusual enough to make him suspicious, and he decided to do a little digging.  He drummed his fingers on the counter, weighing up his options, and after a moment, dug his phone out of his pocket.

“I have a job for you,” he said to the voice on the other end.  “A little detective work.  Usual fees.”

After giving as much detail about Zelena as he could, he rang off, turning back to his ledger.  He would know who she was, and what she really wanted, soon enough.

* * *

Wednesday dawned, grey and miserable, and Lacey curled her lip at the weather as she drank a mug of coffee and petted the kittens.  It was early, barely seven, and she was already dressed and watching the diner from her kitchen window.  It was odd to see Ruby and the others bustling about, setting out cutlery and refilling napkin holders, while she sat in the warmth of her kitchen and watched them.  Okay, so _maybe_ she was actually waiting to see if Gold showed up and _maybe_ she was all ready to get out of the door once he did, but that was beside the point.

As if on cue, she saw him out of the corner of her eye, a lone, slender figure in a dark suit and a red shirt, his black overcoat wafting behind him in the breeze and his hair rippling as he walked.  She downed the last of the coffee, and picked up the kittens to kiss them one by one.

“I’ll be back at lunchtime,” she promised.  “You guys be good, okay?”

Setting them in their basket, she grabbed the bag containing her laptop and charger, pulled a hat down over her hair and trotted out of the door.  She still felt awkward about seeing Gold, and was unsure how she was going to react, but she had told herself very firmly that she had a job to do, and her personal feelings towards him shouldn’t get in the way.

 _Just be casual_ , she thought as she crossed the road.   _You’ve interacted tons of times, and the fact that you caught feelings and shit means nothing.  Concentrate on the job.  Just don’t be fucking weird about it and freak out when you see him._

She pushed open the door to the diner, calling out a greeting to Merida and Ruby, and caught Gold’s eye almost immediately.  He was just taking off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair, and he sent her a brief smile, his gold tooth glinting as he shook his hair back.  She felt her stomach flip, and almost stumbled into the table.

 _Great, Lacey._ Real _smooth._

“Eager to get started, I see,” he said.  “Would you like breakfast?”

She busied herself setting down her bag and shrugging off her jacket.

“Coffee would be good,” she said.  “And - and I guess some pancakes, if you’re having some.”

“Make that two, please, Miss Lucas,” said Gold, as Ruby bustled up with a pad and pen.

“Sure thing.”  Ruby scribbled on the pad, winked at Lacey, and hurried off to grab the coffee.

Lacey pulled off her hat, shoving it into her bag, and sat up, knowing that her cheeks were flushed, and hoping he would think it was the cold air.  Gold was looking at her over tented fingers, the dark red of his shirt warm against his skin, light glinting on the heavy ring he wore on his right hand.  She sat back as Ruby placed steaming cups of coffee in front of them both.

“I brought my computer,” she said.  “I thought I’d probably spend at least the first few days setting up a spreadsheet to record the details of all the items.  It’ll make it easier to keep track of everything if we have a good database.  I’ll need access to whatever records you have on the crap in your shop.”

He nodded.

“I thought as much,” he said, taking a sip.  “I spent the past few days double-checking the prices and provenance on everything.”

She nodded, fidgeting a little in her seat, and he took another sip.

“I suggest you don’t label the goods as ‘crap’ when it comes to listing them for sale,” he added, his eyes twinkling a little, and she gave him a flat look.

“Just make sure I have as much info on them as you can give me.”

“Well, my ledgers have everything I’ve purchased and sold,” he said.  “I may need to provide you with more description, as a lot of the detail is held in my head.”

“It’s cool, I need to take pictures anyway.”  She added sugar and cream to her cup.  “I’ll need to set up in the back room.  A flat surface with some cloth covering it.”

“Black would be best for the jewellery, and perhaps green for the furniture and some of the china,” he said, rubbing his chin.  “Let me see what I can do.  It may not be today.”

“Not a problem, as long as I give everything a reference number we can use to add the pictures later.”

She could feel herself relax, as they talked about work, as they concentrated on what it was he had hired her to do.  She was surprised by how easy it was to fall into this new way of earning a living, discussing her ideas with him as though she had done this sort of thing before, and wasn’t an ex-waitress with a working knowledge of Ebay.  He seemed receptive to her suggestions, and amused by her enthusiasm, and by the time they left the diner she decided she had made the right choice.  She just had to keep on doing her job until she got over her feelings for him.

Gold had cleared a space in the back room for her, a small desk and chair on which she set her laptop.  He largely left her to get on with it, sitting at the workbench and making repairs to a pocket watch.  They sat in comfortable silence as Lacey began constructing her spreadsheet, adding columns for item descriptions, age and condition, along with purchase price, retail price and reserve auction price.  Gold made them tea at eleven, a strong, fragrant brew with chewy oatmeal raisin cookies on the side.  Lacey perched on her chair with her feet tucked under, nibbling at her cookie as he leaned back against the bench opposite.

“I’m gonna set up different sheets for different groups of items,” she explained.  “So there’ll be a furniture section, and a porcelain section, and a jewellery section, you know?  Should make it easier to find stuff.”

“Can you put something in there about sales data?” he asked.

“I can.  Do you do your accounts on computer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lacey giggled.  “Pity.  Would have made things easier for you.”

He grinned, and took a bite of his cookie.

“I have to go out to look at one of my properties this afternoon,” he said.  “Will you be alright minding the shop until I get back?”

“What if someone wants to buy something?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Prices are marked.  Sell it to them.  If they haggle, don’t go lower than ten per cent off.”

“Um…”  She chewed her lip, and he smiled.

“No one ever comes in, remember?” he said.  “That’s why I hired you.”

“Okay.”  She nodded.  “Sure.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.  I’ll - um - I’ll need your records so I can start putting the details in here.”

Gold jerked his head at a large mahogany bookshelf at the side of the room.

“All the ledgers are on there,” he said.  “You’ll no doubt find that things aren’t in the order you want, but I’m afraid there’s no way around that.”

“I can manage,” she said, looking at the thick, heavy ledgers.  “I think - I think this is gonna keep me busy for some time.”

“Well, that was the general idea,” he said, lifting his teacup.  “I assure you this isn’t urgent.  Just take your time.”

He took a drink, and she nodded, trying to relax a little more.  He was looking too good for her to be entirely comfortable, his jacket off and the red silk sleeves pushed up with his gold sleeve garters.  She hadn’t even known those were a thing until she saw them on him, but they only added to the attraction.  She found her gaze running down his body, remembering how he felt pressing down on her, and buried her nose in her cup to hide her blush.

“So which property’s causing you problems?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

“Oh, it’s one of my warehouses,” he said.  “It’s not causing problems, exactly, I just think it either needs extensive renovations or pulling down and replacing with something else.”

“Another warehouse?” she asked.

“Perhaps.  It depends on the interests of potential tenants.  The town doesn’t need more housing, it needs business investment.”

“You could turn it into smaller offices or retail spaces,” she suggested.  “Give discounts to start-ups, or start a weekly market for small traders.”

“Excuse me?”

Lacey sat forward.

“Look, there are plenty of people in this town who’d like to do something else, but don’t have the space or the time or the money,” she said.  “Take Leroy and Walter.  They work at the hospital, but Leroy’s a qualified electrician, and Walter’s a plumber.  They just never had any advice about setting up in business or any premises to work from.”

He was staring at her, but she pressed on.

“And - and then there’s Tiana,” she said.  “Making cupcakes out of her kitchen in the evening for whatever bake sale happens to come along.  If she had more space, she could take on some helpers, bake full time and maybe work up to that patisserie she always talked about running.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked.

“I talk to people,” she said patiently.  “Customer service, you know?  I could tell you the hopes and dreams of pretty much everyone in this town.  You know, except you, I guess.”

He was silent, and she wondered if she had overstepped.  She decided he could handle it.

“I’m just saying that if you maybe put up a bunch of smaller units and agreed a low rent for like six months, it might encourage start-up businesses,” she said, with a shrug, and Gold blinked.

“An interesting suggestion,” he said.  “I’ll consider it when I look the place over.”

He set his cup aside, picking up his jacket and putting it on.

“I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

She nodded, turning back to her laptop as he made his way out.  He hadn’t tried to kiss her, hadn’t so much as touched her since meeting her that morning, and it made it easier to think.  If she was going to be working for him, she had to hold onto as many of her wits as the man had left her, which were precious few.

She went to the shelves where the ledgers sat, pulling one out and opening it up on the desk.  There was page after page of notes on the items in the shop, each numbered, some with an entry to show the sale, all in Gold’s neat, flowing script.  She sighed as she looked at how many entries there were just one page.  At this rate she’d still be putting the database together when it was time to take the SATs.

Once a couple of entries were on the system, she decided it would be easier to use a ruler to see which item she was copying, and so she went on a hunt.  There was nothing on the desk or bench, and so she pulled out one of the desk drawers, reaching inside.  Her fingers touched thick paper, and she pulled out a bundle of envelopes, her brow wrinkling curiously.  A stack of letters and cards, that appeared to be unopened, bound with a rubber band.

Lacey looked around, suddenly nervous.  She was aware that she had no right to look, but she couldn’t help peeking to see if her suspicions were correct.   _Bailey Gold_ , the top one said, followed by an address in New York.  It had been returned, unopened.  A quick flick through the pile showed that the others were the same, although the address changed to Portland, Oregon, and then to Phoenix.  The New York address was the most recent, and after a moment she pulled out her phone and took a picture.  She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it felt like something she should take a note of.  Just in case.

* * *

Gold got back to the shop around one, and Lacey excused herself to go home to feed the cats.  He supposed he should have asked her to lunch, but then they were going to be together all afternoon, and she probably wanted time to herself.  He made himself some more tea, instead, with two of the oatmeal cookies, and started working on the pocket watch again.  He had thought over her ideas as he was looking over the warehouse, but although they had merit, he was not one to make snap decisions when it came to business plans.

Lacey returned at two, smiling briefly at him and returning to her work, and there was little more said until the clocks in the shop started striking six, and she stretched and yawned.  Gold flashed her a brief smile.

“How was your first day?” he asked, and she returned the smile.

“Okay, actually,” she said.  “See you tomorrow?”

“Coffee at Granny’s?”

She hesitated, but nodded.  He noticed that she was clutching her laptop bag to her chest, a little like a shield, and so he kept his distance.

“I’ll see you at seven-fifteen,” he said.  “Thank you, Lacey.”

She inhaled sharply, as though she was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and scurried out with the laptop bag under one arm.  He watched her go, wondering if he would ever understand what was going through her mind.  The bell above the door tinkled as she let herself out, and he stood up, his leg stiff and painful after sitting in one position for so long.  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached for it, flipping it open to answer.

“It’s me, calling to make your day ten times better.”

The man who called himself Jefferson had an almost lazy drawl to his voice, and was a dreadful flirt.  Gold wanted to roll his eyes, amused in spite of himself.

“What do you have for me?” he asked, and Jefferson sighed.

“Straight to the good stuff, huh?” he said.  “No foreplay at all?”

“Do you want to be paid or not?” snapped Gold.  “I don’t have all night.”

“So my last date said.  Turned out that wasn’t true.”

“Jefferson!”

“Fine!”  Jefferson sighed heavily.  “Her name is Zelena Green, thirty eight years old, raised in London by a banker and his American wife, but went to Northwestern University and studied business.  She worked for Oz Industries up until 2012, then got laid off.  Since then she’s been doing consultant work for a health and beauty company in Philadelphia.”

“Okay, so far, so boring,” said Gold cautiously.  “I know you, though.  What’s your big reveal.”

Jefferson clicked his teeth, sounding exasperated.

“You never let me have any fun!”

“Just tell me.”

“She has interesting antecedents, if you move in the wrong circles,” he said.  “Her birth mother is Cora Mills.”

Gold tapped his pen on the counter, trying to hide his shock.  A name he hadn’t heard in a long time, and an unwelcome one.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.  “If I need anything further I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure thing.”

Jefferson rang off, and Gold slipped the phone back into his pocket, frowning.  Miss Green had made him uncomfortable from the moment he met her.  At least now he knew why.


	19. I Could Not Hold You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold found out something about Zelena, and Lacey started working for him. Things were a little tense between them on the first day, because she's completely in love with him and they're both blind idiots. Here's what happened next.

Lacey found her next day easier, largely because she was very busy and Gold kept out of her way for most of the morning.  He seemed a little distracted, frowning to himself and tapping his fingers against the bench or the shop counter, but he didn’t seem annoyed at her, so she felt able to relax around him.  By the time six o’clock came she had fallen back into the usual banter they enjoyed, teasing him about some of the notes he had made in his ledgers and his refusal to keep records on computer.

“You’ll see how useful digital stuff is when I’m done,” she assured him, as she packed away her laptop.  “I promise it’ll take a fraction of the time to find what you’re looking for.”

“People always assume faster is better,” he sighed, and she shrugged.

“Time is money, right?”

“Not always,” he said, and his eyes glinted in the warm lights of the lamps.  “I find that taking your time brings its own rewards.  In some things.”

As they were clearly back to flirting, and it didn’t make her feel like running away, she grinned at him.  He winked, his expression turning wicked, and so she stomped over and kissed him, hands sliding beneath his jacket as she pushed him back against the bench.  Gold reached up to cradle her head in one hand, his fingers sinking into her hair.  He tasted of the tea they had been drinking, and she pressed herself against him, enjoying the firm warmth of his body and the way he made her shiver deliciously as his tongue teased hers.  She pulled back, her lips brushing over his.

“Taking your time, huh?” she murmured, and he grinned.

“I’d like to,” he whispered.  “I’d like to take my sweet time with you, Lacey.  Lay you down and kiss every inch of you.”

“Mmm.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning.  “I like the sound of that.”

“So come over.”  He bent to kiss her neck, making her moan at the touch of his lips.  “Saturday night.  What do you say?”

“Are you cooking?”

She felt him smile against her skin, and he was still grinning as he straightened up to look at her.

“If you like.  Maybe you can help.”

“Yeah, I could set out plates and pour wine, or something that’s not gonna kill us both.”

“Oh, I think you can do better than that.”

“You say that now.  Wait until I manage to burn the salad.”

Gold’s grin widened.

“After work, then,” he said.  “Come over at seven.”

“It’s a”-  n _ot a date, it’s not a date  -_ “agreed.”

“Good.”

He kissed her forehead, and she settled back on her heels with a sigh.

“I should go,” she said.  “Hungry cats and study await.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah.”

She pulled back from him to tug on her coat and pick up her bag, feeling his eyes on her.  He watched her leave, and as she glanced over her shoulder he was still smiling, a crinkle-eyed grin that made her stomach clench.  Man, was she in trouble.

* * *

Gold was finding that having Lacey around the place made the shop a little brighter, his soul a little lighter.  Despite the initial awkwardness, she had settled in well, and had been engrossed in her work, fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop as she copied the information from his ledgers.  She explained that she had assigned each item a reference number, which she would use to cross-check with the photographs she planned on taking.  They sat for the most part in comfortable silence, broken only by lunch and at mid-morning and mid-afternoon for tea and cookies.

Friday was rent collection day for most, but Gold spent the morning checking over the warehouse that he was considering renovating.  He had decided that he liked Lacey’s idea, but wanted to research it further before he put any money into it.  He picked up lunch on his way back from the warehouse, burgers and fries from Granny’s, with two iced teas.  Lacey’s eyes widened at the sight of food, which made him grin.

“God, I’m _starving_!” she said, reaching for one of the burgers.  “I didn’t realise what the time was, I should go and feed the cats.”

“Eat your own lunch first.”

He set down the plastic cups of iced tea, unwrapping his burger as he sat down at the bench, and she slipped onto the stool adjacent to his, her foot nudging his leg.  

“I had some ideas for your website,” she said, taking half a dozen fries from their paper cone and popping them into her mouth.

Gold frowned.

“What website?” he asked suspiciously.

“The one I’m gonna set up for the shop.”

“But I thought you were just going to be listing things on that Ebay place.”

“A website would make you look like the professional outfit you are,” she said, swiping a fry through the ketchup on her burger.  “I have a bunch of ideas.  Do you have time to talk through them after lunch?”

“It’s rent day,” he said.  “I’ll be out collecting.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about,” she said.  “Why don’t you set up a payments system on the website?”

“The website I didn’t know I was having until twenty seconds ago?”

“Yeah.  I could do that for you, no problem.  People could pay their rent direct to your Paypal account.”

“Something else I didn’t know I was having.”

“You need one for the online sales,” she said patiently, as though he was being stupid.  “So how about it?  Direct payment, less pounding the streets and knocking on doors...”

“And miss out on the looks of abject terror when I turn up to ruin someone’s day?” he said dryly.  “I’m not sure I like that idea.”

“Gold…”

He chuckled.

“I’m teasing,” he said.

“Not about the last bit, you weren’t.”

“Not about that, no.”

She stuck out her tongue, and he grinned at her.

“We can talk about it this evening, if you like,” he said.  “Drink after work?”

Lacey was tempted - God, she was tempted!  But she was also reasonably self-aware, and she was positive that one drink would lead to more, and she would spend the entire evening drinking with Gold and probably screwing his brains out.  None of which would help her SAT score.

“I can’t,” she said reluctantly.  “I have to study.”

“Ah.”  He nodded.  “Well, I won’t argue with that.  Tomorrow over breakfast, then.”

“Sure thing.”  She gave him a shrewd look.  “Your treat, right?”

He lifted a hand, spreading his fingers with a twisted little smile on his face.

“But of course.”

“Well, okay then.”  She grinned at him.  “Granny’s at seven.  We can make some tongues wag.”

His eyes glinted.

“I’m not averse to that.”

* * *

Gold left soon after lunch, just after Lacey had returned from seeing to the kittens, and she was left alone in the shop.  She didn’t mind that; there was plenty for her to be getting on with, and it wasn’t as though people came looking for him on rent day. They knew all too well he’d come to them.  It was therefore a surprise when she heard the bell ring out in the shop, and a female voice calling out.  Pushing back her chair, she got up and went through, rolling her eyes as she saw Miss Green standing at the counter.  The woman’s eyes narrowed, her lip curling a little, and Lacey prepared herself for the inevitable catty comments.

“What are _you_ doing here?” sneered Miss Green.  “Where’s Mr Gold?”

“Out collecting rent,” said Lacey.  “He won’t be back until six, I reckon.”

“And he left _you_ looking after the shop?”  She looked disbelieving.  “Don’t you have tables to wait?”

“Oh, yeah, I work here now,” said Lacey, shrugging.

Miss Green smiled thinly, tossing back her red-blonde curls.

“Well,” she said.  “Quite a change in occupation.  I had no idea you were an expert on antiques.”

“I know fuck all about antiques,” said Lacey bluntly.  “I’m running his website and online sales business.”

“Hmm.”

Miss Green looked her up and down as though Lacey was something she had trodden in and wanted to scrape off her shoe.

“I suppose shagging the boss is an express term of your employment contract?” she said nastily, and Lacey grinned.

“Nope,” she said.  “Shagging the boss is just one of those really awesome perks.  It was that or dental, so I had to choose.  No contest, really.”

Miss Green’s mouth twisted as though she’d eaten something sour.

“Oh, if you ever see the sign set to _Closed_ , don’t come in,” added Lacey helpfully.  “We can get pretty into each other, and we don’t always hear the bell.  I guess you remember that from last time, huh?  You know, before he threw you out.”

Her mouth twisted further, and she turned away a little, pretending an interest in the contents of a glass display case.

“How long do you plan on working here?” she asked, and Lacey shrugged.

“As long as I’m needed, I guess.”

“So, a few months, then?”

Lacey leaned on the counter.

“Wow, you should get together with my dad,” she said.  “Sounds like you two have similar thought-processes and can’t keep your noses out of other people’s shit.”  She grinned as Miss Green frowned at her.  “Come to think of it, you’re probably about his age.”

Miss Green’s eyes bulged in outrage.

“I’m thirty-eight!” she snapped.

“Hard life, huh?”  Lacey’s voice dripped with fake sympathy.  “Yeah, that’s his excuse, too.  Doesn’t stop him from being a jerk.  Doesn’t stop _me_ from telling him to fuck off.  Not gonna stop me telling you to do the same.”

“Customer service really isn’t your forté, is it?” said Miss Green dryly, and Lacey snorted.

“Come on, lady, I think we know full well you’re not a customer,” she said.  “I don’t know what the hell it is you want, but it doesn’t seem like Gold’s interested in anything you have to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Miss Green airily.  “I can certainly offer him more of what he truly wants.  Unlike you.”

“Weird that he’s sleeping with me, then.”

Miss Green smiled.

“Rich and powerful men often lose their heads over pretty young women,” she said.  “Doesn’t mean anything in the long run.  You must know that.”

_Of course I bloody know that!_

Aloud she said: “So what?  Why the hell do you care?”

“Because you seem like a sweet girl…”

“I pretty much told you to go fuck yourself.”

“...and I think you’d be much happier with someone more - well, you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” said Lacey.  “And you don’t know Gold, either.  He’s not what people think he is.”

Zelena leant on the counter, eyes flashing.

“Oh, I think I do know him,” she said quietly.  “I’ve known dozens of men like him over the years.  All rich, all powerful, all exceptionally clever.  They tend to seek out people who share those attributes.  People who can give them what they truly want, which is more power, money and influence.  Not glorified shop girls who dress like tramps and can’t open their mouths without swearing.”

Lacey itched to slap her, but kept her hands at her sides.

“Well, I guess I’ll enjoy being a fucking slutty upstart for as long as I can,” she said.  “Maybe I was too subtle before.  Go fuck yourself.”

Miss Green smiled, showing white teeth.

“Looks like I touched a nerve.”

“Yeah, my last one,” said Lacey.  “Go on, piss off.  I’ll tell Gold his stalker stopped by.  I’m sure there’s a nice restraining order he could dust off before your next visit.”

Miss Green pulled back, still grinning, and turned for the door.

“He’ll get bored, dear,” she threw over her shoulder.  “They all get bored, in the end.”

The bell jingled as she left, and Lacey stood seething, glaring after her.

The visit had put her in a bad mood, insecurity swelling within and making it hard to concentrate.  The fact that Miss Green was the second person that week to tell her that whatever she and Gold had was doomed wasn’t lost on her.  Okay, so there were ulterior motives in the mix, but thinking about it rationally she was aware that she had never seen Gold in a relationship before, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they kept clinging to one another because they were both lonely.  Lonely and a little broken by life.  No basis for anything that would last.

She sat back down at her laptop, staring at the screen and seeing nothing.  He had wanted her to go for dinner on Saturday, another chance to feed her and fuck her and lift the tedium of life in a small town for a night.  She wasn’t sure she could stand it.  She wasn’t sure that she could go over there, knowing she was completely in love with him, make small talk and drink his wine and sleep with him, only to return to her tiny little life and wait for the day when he would announce he was no longer interested.

* * *

Gold’s rounds were mostly uneventful.  The majority of people in Storybrooke knew better than to try to avoid him if they couldn’t pay, so they would come into the shop to explain whatever financial distress they found themselves in, and he would decide how to handle it.  Most tenants knew he preferred this approach.  A select few hadn’t made the connection between surprising him with a failure to pay and a harsh response.  Keith Nott was one of them.  He opened his front door looking as though he’d just crawled out of bed, his eyes squinting and bloodshot and his white vest sporting some interesting stains.  Gold was well aware that the man was considered very attractive, but for the life of him he couldn’t think why.

“Man, it’s early!” he complained.

“It’s five-thirty in the evening,” said Gold.

“Exactly.  I had another hour of sleep planned before I hit the club.”

“Your scheduled indolence is of no interest to me.”  Gold’s gloved hands shifted on the cane handle.  “Your rent is due.  Plus the late penalty you owe me.”

“I don’t have it.”

Gold gave him a thin, humourless smile.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“And I told you that if you didn’t pay me what you owed me, there would be consequences.”

“Look, I - I don’t have _all_ of it,” Nott said hastily.  “I didn’t get my paycheck yet.”

“Presumably because you were sitting on your arse planning on wasting my precious time.”

“I can get it to you tomorrow.”

“It’s due today.”

“Come on, man!”  Nott looked aggrieved, and Gold eyed him steadily until he sighed.  “Look, how about if I pay you some now?”

“Let’s see it, and we’ll talk.”

Grumbling under his breath, Nott wandered off, and Gold waited.  The man returned with a sour look on his face and a bundle of notes in his hand.  He thrust it into Gold’s outstretched hand, and Gold began to count it, his cane resting in the crook of his arm.  Nott waited, running a hand through slick, dark hair.

“So, I hear you hired Lacey,” he said.  “How’s that working out for you?  Didn’t think she’d be your type.”

“Miss French is a very competent and enthusiastic employee,” said Gold, still counting the money, and Nott let out an ugly chuckle.

“She’s a firecracker, alright,” he said.  “I mean the girl knows how to party, know what I’m saying?”

“I’m fairly certain I don’t want to,” said Gold coldly, and Nott shrugged.

“Small town, Gold.  People are gonna talk, and you know what they say about her.  No shame being last in line, I guess.  Just don’t believe anything she says.  Girl’s a fucking tease.”

Gold felt like grinding his teeth.

“You’re short by three hundred,” he snapped.  “As this is the second time in the space of a month, this is your final warning.”

“I told you, I’ll get it to you tomorrow!”

“You’d better, or you’re out on your arse!”

Gold stuffed the money into his inside pocket, grounding the cane and striding away.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me if she’s playing hard to get!” Nott shouted after him.

Gold walked swiftly away before he could do something he regretted, his breath misting in the cold air and blowing from his nostrils like smoke.  He tried not to listen to the more salacious rumours about his new assistant, as he was almost sure they were exaggerated.  Almost.

The encounter had put him in a foul mood, and he was glad the day was over and he could return to the shop, say a brief goodnight to Lacey, and go home to pour himself a large whisky or three and wonder what the fuck he was doing with his life.

The evening air was freezing, a low fog forming in the streets.  His anger with Nott had made him walk too fast, and by the time he reached the shop his leg was killing him.  It didn’t improve his mood.  He pushed open the door, noting that Lacey was not in the main shop, and made his way through to the backroom.  She looked around as he entered, checked her watch, and began shutting down her laptop.

“Hey,” she said, somewhat listlessly.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said.

“Only ten minutes.”  She closed the laptop lid and stretched.  “I’ll get out of your hair.”

There was a strange atmosphere in the room, an invisible wall between them that he could feel in the air, as though his fingers could slide along the mortar and scatter the dust of her coldness.  Lacey pulled on her coat, not looking at him.

“What’s upset you?” he asked quietly, and she scowled.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, something has upset you.”

“Forget it, Gold.”

“Alright.”

He was silent, and she buttoned her coat, putting the laptop away in her bag.

“We’re still on for tomorrow night, aren’t we?” he asked then, and she chewed her lip.

“I - I’m not sure.”

“I see.”  Needles of bitterness pierced his soul, sharp and painful.  “Would you mind telling me why?”

“I changed my mind.”

“I gathered as much.  Why?”

Lacey didn’t respond, and he sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“Well, that’s just perfect isn’t it?” he said quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I never know whether you’re going to kiss me or run for the fucking hills, that’s what.”

“I’m not _running_ ,” she said defensively.  “I’m just - postponing.”

“I see,” he said again, and there was silence.  Gold sighed again, more heavily.

“So, what was it this time?” he asked, his tone snappish.  “The wind changed direction?  A black fucking cat crossed your path?  Or did you simply get a better offer?”

She glared at him.

“A better _offer_?” she repeated.  “What, you think I’m banging someone else, is that it?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Lacey’s jaw worked, her eyes glistening with hurt, and he wanted to take it back.  She turned away before he could, shouldering her laptop bag.

“I’m definitely not coming over tomorrow,” she muttered, pushing past him.  “Not like it means anything anyway.”

“Why would you say that?”

He followed her out into the shop, anger and insecurity making him reckless, and Lacey swivelled on her toes to face him, blue eyes flashing.  Good God, she was beautiful!  Beautiful and ethereal, a force of nature.  Dazzling as lightning and as impossible to predict.  She would burn him if he tried to hold onto her.

“You want to know why I run all the time?” she asked.  “Because I’m waiting for the other fucking shoe to drop, okay?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped.

Lacey hesitated, unsure whether she should reveal her own fears.  Her own weaknesses.  She couldn’t tell him she loved him, certainly.

“I’m waiting for you to get bored of me,” she said.  “You will, right?  Everyone says so.”

“Who the hell is ‘everyone’?” he asked roughly.  “Your father?  Mrs bloody Lucas?  What the fuck gives them such insight into my feelings and motives, pray tell?”

“It’s just - it’s obvious, isn’t it?” she said.  “The pawnbroker and the waitress?  The richest guy in town and the screw-up who dresses like a tramp and can’t open her mouth without cursing a blue streak?”

“You think I care about any of that bollocks?” he snapped.  “I thought we were closer than that.”

“You thought we were _close_?” she said disbelievingly.

His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing darkly.  It made her want to kiss him, a surge of desire that was almost too strong to bear.

“Forgive me,” he said coldly.  “I’m not used to sharing my most private pains and deepest regrets with just anyone.  Perhaps the ease with which you fall into bed with people has made you blind to that.”

Okay, so maybe she didn’t want to kiss him.  Maybe she just wanted to fucking slap him.  She put her hands on her hips, sticking out her jaw.

“Oh, so you’re playing that card, are you?” she sneered.  “Well, I might have known it’d happen at some point.  Sing me a song I haven’t heard before, why don’t you?”

“If you recall, you were the one who told me of your reputation.”

“Yeah, I just never thought I’d have to hear about it from you.”

“And here I was thinking you didn’t care what people thought of you.” he said, his voice deceptively mild.

“I don’t give a _shit_ what people think of me!”

“Yes you do.”  His voice was a low hiss, his eyes glinting at her.  “You care so much you could cry, but you push everyone away who even tries to understand you!  You’re too bloody stubborn to bend and let someone in, to let them help you.”

“I don’t _want_ your help!” she shouted.  “I never asked for it!  And you - you’re a _hypocrite_!  How long have _you_ been pushing people away, huh?”

“I wasn’t pushing you away that night, I was letting you in, and you…”  He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  “You seem to think it’s _nothing_!”

“What, you share one thing with me and suddenly we’re soulmates?”

“Of course not!”

“So what the hell did it mean, then?”

“It meant that I trusted you!” he snapped.  “It meant that I thought I could spend the bloody night without you bolting like a fucking deer the moment you woke up!”

“Well, maybe I thought that’s what you wanted, have you considered that?”

“I don’t understand why would you _ever_ think that!”

 _“Because!”_  She threw up her arms.  “Because why the hell would you want to stay?  It’s not like we’re a bloody item, is it?”

“You actually think that?”  He was angry, his free hand gesturing and chopping the air as he spoke.  “I’ve spent more time with you in the past month than I’ve spent with anyone else in _years_ and you think I don’t _care_?”

 _“I don’t even know your first fucking name!”_ she shouted.

There was a moment of tense, ominous silence.  Lacey’s chest was heaving, her eyes stinging with tears of anger and frustration, and Gold looked stricken, his eyes wide, his face anguished.

“Lacey…” he whispered, and she whirled away from him, one hand snatching at the air and waving him back as she lunged for the door, unseeing.


	20. My Blackened Wing Covered You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold and Lacey were both insecure idiots and when Gold accused her of running every time he tried to get close, Lacey yelled that she didn't know his first name.
> 
> They're both being dicks at the moment, but I'm sure it'll get better. Buckle up for some angry sex.

Lacey stumbled down the street, tears blurring her vision.  She dashed them away with the heels of her hands, her pace quickening as her anger rose.   _Bastard!  Fucking wanker!  Telling me I push people away!  Takes one to fucking know one!_

She stopped for a moment to stamp her foot in frustration, wanting to scream at the sky.  The night was cold, and her breath came out in a plume of mist, the air biting at her cheeks.

She had intended to study after work, but there was zero chance of that happening in her current mood, and so she pulled her phone from the pocket of her coat to call Ruby.

“I need a bloody drink,” she snapped, without so much as a greeting.  “Rabbit Hole?”

“Um - sure.”  Ruby sounded a little bewildered.  “What’s up?”

“Tell you later,” muttered Lacey.  “I’m gonna feed the cats and then I’m going to the bar.  See you in there?”

She rang off once Ruby had agreed, and grasped her keys, popping up to the apartment to feed and pet the kittens before stripping off the shirt and skirt she had worn and tugging one of her short dresses over her head.  It was deep blue and covered in sequins, the back open and the skirt barely covering her rear.  She pulled her jacket over the top, slipping on a pair of black heels and reapplying her lipstick, and stomped back down the street, hands in pockets.  Her legs were cold; she had decided not to wear tights that day, for reasons she couldn’t remember, and wind whipped around her as she walked, making her shiver as the breeze caught her skin.  She didn’t have the energy or inclination to go home again and change, though, so she pushed her chin down into the upturned collar of her coat and hoped that the club was as warm as usual.

The crack of pool balls greeted her as she walked in, but she ignored the whistles of the men at the table, going straight to the bar.

“Gimme a large whisky,” she said.  “Been a sucky day and I plan on getting wasted.”

The bartender grinned and turned to the whisky bottles.

“Working for Gold not so great, huh?”

Lacey curled her lip as Keith Nott lounged on the bar at the side of her, running his eyes over her.

“Piss off,” she said, and he scowled.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?  I’m only trying to make conversation.”

“Go make it somewhere else.”  Lacey took the glass of whisky set down by the barman, knocked it back, and signalled for another.

“What’s the matter, not managed to jump him yet?”

Lacey turned to face him with a wry grin.

“Oh, so you want to find out whether he got further with me than you did, huh?  I guess that wouldn’t be hard.”

Keith scowled again.

“When did you turn into such an uptight bitch?”

“When I realised this place is full of gross fuckboys,” she said.  “Go and play pool or something, would you?  I’m waiting for Ruby.”

He muttered something like ‘fucking dykes’ under his breath and slouched off, leaving Lacey to cradle her whisky.  She took a little time over the second one, relishing the fire of it as it slipped down her throat, letting the heat and noise of the club wash over her.  By the time Ruby arrived, pink-cheeked with the cold and a little breathless, she was on her third.

“What’s up?” asked Ruby, and Lacey waved at the bartender.

“Vodka tonic and a rum and Coke,” she said.

“Thanks.”  Ruby shrugged off her coat, and Lacey inclined her head.

“Let’s grab a table.”

Ruby found a table a little out of the way, and Lacey brought over the drinks, setting the vodka tonic in front of her friend and sucking rum and Coke through a straw.  She was feeling light-headed, a pleasant, numbing sensation, and she planned on getting way more drunk before the night was over, if Ruby was up for it.

“So, what’s up?” asked Ruby again, giving her a knowing look as she stirred her drink.  “Gold give you a hard time?”

“We kind of had a fight,” said Lacey grumpily.

“What about?”

“About the fact that I’m a screw-up who dresses like a fucking prostitute and he’s—”

“Wait, he _said_ that?”

“No...”  Lacey ran her hands over her face.  “No, I said that.”

“Good, because I was about to kick his skinny ass all round that shop of his.”  Ruby sniffed, and fixed Lacey with a stare.  “And don’t you dare say that about yourself!  You’re not a screw up, and who cares how you dress?”

“Oh, and that bitch of a Green woman said it too—”

“Oh, she is _so_ getting something thrown over her next time she’s in the diner…”

“—but it got me thinking, and she’s right, Rubes!”  Lacey slapped her palms against the tabletop, feeling anguished.  “Gold’s not gonna spend his time with me, I’m a fucking mess!  I’m a - I’m a weekend in Vegas!  I’m not the long-term girl and I know it!  And - and I think he knows it too, he’s just too polite to say so.”

“That is total bullshit,” said Ruby flatly.  “You guys haven’t even been seeing each other for that long, how the hell can you know that?”

Lacey sighed, stirring her drink.

“I _do_ ,” she insisted.  “Anyway, I basically told him I was waiting for him to dump me and he completely lost his shit and told me I pushed anyone away who tried to get close and I was too busy sleeping around to recognise when they want to.”

“Oh, so he said _that_?”  Ruby wriggled in her seat.  “Ass-kicking’s still on.”

“Maybe I’m remembering it wrong,” sighed Lacey.  “We both yelled a lot and I stormed out. _That_ definitely happened.”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Ruby, taking a sip of her drink.  “You guys had a fight, and you told him you’re waiting for him to dump you because in your words, you’re a screwed-up slutbag and no decent guy could ever be interested long-term.”

“Okay, I didn’t say slutbag…”

“And he flipped out and accused you of pushing anyone away who wants to get close to you.”

“Um…”  Lacey chewed her lip.  “Yeah, I guess…”

“See, that sounds to me like he _does_ want to get serious, and you don’t think he can.”

“I don’t even know his first _name_ , Rubes!” said Lacey, slapping the table with her palms again.  “I’ve been naked with the guy a dozen times and I don’t even know his first fucking _name_!”

“It says ‘Mr C. Gold’ on his credit card, I can tell you that,” said Ruby, arching a dark brow.  “What do you think the ‘C’ stands for?”

“Dunno,” said Lacey moodily.  “Probably rhymes with ‘runt’.”

Ruby cackled loudly, and after a moment Lacey joined in.

“So what the hell have you been calling him in the throes of passion, then?” giggled Ruby, her eyes sparkling.

“Mostly I’ve been blaspheming and swearing my ass off,” said Lacey.  “Or, you know, just kind of losing the ability to form words at all.”

“Oh my God…”  Ruby laughed harder.  “And the rest of the time?”

She sucked up some of her drink, and Lacey shrugged.

“I call him Gold,” she said.  “Along with bastard, arsehole, wanker…”

Ruby giggled again, and Lacey took a long drink.

“God, I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said, almost to herself.  “I should never have slept with him in the first bloody place.”

“Yeah, honey, I think that ship’s sailed,” said Ruby dryly, and slurped at her drink.  “Look, you have two choices.  You either leave things as they are and carry on freaking out, or the two of you actually have a conversation about what it is you want.”

“Communication, huh?”  Lacey pulled a face.  “Not really our thing.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to practice, if you want the thing you do have to continue,” said Ruby, and Lacey grumbled, stirring the ice in her glass and jabbing at the cubes with her straw.

“This all sounds way too logical and I’m not sure I approve.”

“Another drink?”

“Oh, hell yes!”

Ruby chuckled, draining her glass and standing up to go to the bar.  Lacey scowled at the table, drawing patterns with a finger from the circles of moisture their glasses had left on the tabletop.  Laughter bellowed from the men at the pool table, cutting through the music, and she wondered if anyone would play her.  She was in the mood to kick some arse, and if it couldn’t be Gold’s she figured one of Keith’s lowlife friends would do as well.

* * *

After Lacey had left, Gold spent a good half-hour pacing his shop, frustration making him grimace, the cane tapping on the floor and pain shooting through his leg with every stride.  He really felt like picking up the cane and smashing something, but that would only mean cleaning the bloody thing up, and he didn’t have the energy.  He ran over their conversation in his mind, trying to pinpoint what the hell had happened to leave them in their current state.  She had seemed fine when he left to go on his rounds, but when he returned…  Something had happened.  Or perhaps she had simply had too much time to think about things.  He was painfully aware of how one dark thought could breed and multiply.

His leg was complaining loudly, pain piercing him, and so he drew to a stop, his breathing a little unsteady.  He could go over to her place; she had said she was going to study, but perhaps she would see him for fifteen minutes, so that he could try to get through to her.  So that he could tell her his bloody name.  He hadn’t even realised that she didn’t know.  What the hell did it say about their relationship, that he had fucked her multiple times and she didn’t even know his name?  Countless years of not letting anyone in, of never introducing himself by anything but his surname, had meant that he had grown used to not hearing it, and to others not using it.  He had said that he thought they were close, and she had looked at him as though he was an idiot.  He could now understand why.

Grinding his teeth, he flicked off the lights and wrenched open the door, striding out into the cold air and locking up behind him.  She didn’t want to see him, she had made that plain, and in his current mood that was probably for the best.  He needed to take his mind off things, though, and so he decided to head to _The_ _Rabbit Hole_ to collect the outstanding rent from the club owner and any tenants that he hadn’t managed to collar on his usual rounds.  With any luck someone would have a terrible excuse and he could take his foul temper out on them.

The air was cold, and he decided to take the car, slamming the door with a bad grace as he got in and muttering under his breath as he drove.  He couldn’t decide whether he was angry at Lacey or at himself.  Probably both.  

His anger grew as he drove, festering and burning deep within, and as he pulled up outside the dive of a club he put both hands on the wheel and drew a few deep, calming breaths.  Losing his temper in public wasn’t something he liked doing often.  Unless the other person started it, of course.

Music was coming from inside, some raucous, god-awful tune by a tone-deaf band with all the musical skill of a troupe of untrained monkeys, and he scowled as he entered, the crowd parting instinctively as he approached.  He made his way to the bar, glancing around and making a note of the few people trying to get out of his line of sight.  The bartender swallowed hard as he approached.

“Mr Gold,” he said nervously.  “Can I - can I get you a drink?”

“Just the rent,” said Gold evenly.  “For now.”

“I - yes, I have it.”

He hurried to the cash register, opening it up and lifting the drawer insert to pull out a thick brown envelope.  Shutting the register, he waved it at Gold, who snatched it out of his hand and opened it up.  The amount of notes looked about right, but he pulled them out and began counting, his cane leaning against the bar stool and his fingers flicking through the bills.  It was all there.  Plus the penalty he had charged for a late payment.  Dammit.  He put the money back in the envelope and thrust it into the inside pocket of his overcoat.

“Tell your boss she’s paid up until next week,” he said.  “And that I don’t want to have to deal with any further arrears.”

“Understood.”

“Excellent.”  He picked up his cane again.  “Now, I’m looking for a couple of people.  Messrs Smee and Jones.  Any ideas?”

“They - they were playing pool earlier,” stammered the barman.  “I - I don’t know if they’re still there…”

Gold walked off before he could finish, threading through the evening drinkers and following the click and rattle of pool balls.

“Bad luck, mate.”

A familiar voice, drawling a little, cut across the music, and he rounded an oblivious man with a beer in his hand, to see Lacey leaning on her pool cue, grinning at a disgruntled Keith Nott.  She held out a small hand, palm upwards.

“Come on, pay up.”

“Best of three,” he suggested, and she shook her head, mahogany curls swinging and the ridiculously short blue dress she wore glittering in the light.

“Told you, I’m here with Ruby.  I’m not gonna spend all night kicking your arse just because I can.  Pay up.”

He sidled up to her with a lascivious grin, and Gold felt his jaw clench.

“Maybe I could find some other way to clear the debt,” he said, sliding a hand over her hip, and Lacey pulled back.

“Yeah, I’ll take the twenty bucks,” she said, and snapped her fingers.  “Come on.”

Grumbling to himself, Nott dug in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and thrusting it at her.  Twenty dollars that he claimed not to have had earlier that evening, Gold noted.  Lacey snagged it between thumb and forefinger, flashing him a toothy grin and sauntering off to a table, where Gold could see Miss Lucas talking on her phone.  He sank back into the shadows, noting that the two people he sought were no longer at the pool table.  Perhaps they were elsewhere in the club.  He could wait.

Lacey dropped into her seat just as Ruby was ending her call, and reached for her rum and Coke, sucking a long drink through the straw.  She placed the twenty dollars on the table.

“Next round’s on Keith.”

“Finally got someone to play you, huh?” said Ruby.  “I guess you won’t have any problems making rent this month, though.  Not if you’re getting fifteen an hour.”

“Should be fine,” agreed Lacey.  “I should even be able to start putting some cash aside from what Gold pays me.  You know, as long as I can get through the next few weeks without murdering the guy.”

Ruby’s eyes widened, her gaze suddenly fixed over Lacey’s shoulder, and Lacey sighed inwardly.   _He’s right behind me, isn’t he?_

She swivelled in her chair, glancing up to see Gold staring at her, immaculate as ever, looking entirely out of place in the dim light of the bar.

“Lacey,” he said, in a neutral voice, and she scowled.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Collecting rent,” he said.  “I wasn’t aware you’d be here.”

“Small world.”

“So it would seem.”

He ran his eyes over the collection of empty glasses on the table, and Lacey raised an eyebrow, waiting for the comment.

“So, this is studying, is it?” he said coldly.  “My my, it’s changed a lot since I was at college.”

She scowled at him.

“How I spend my free time is my business.”

“Indeed it is.”  He glanced around, his fingers opening and closing on the cane.  “I guess I’ll enjoy the benefit of not paying you that extra five dollars an hour come December.”

Ruby seemed to be trying to slip beneath the table with her drink, but Lacey shoved her chair back and got to her feet, glaring at him.

“I had _every intention_ of going home and studying before _you_ decided to be a fucking _arsehole_ about everything!” she snapped, her finger jabbing the air.  Gold looked bored and impassive, which only made her angrier.

“Weirdly enough yelling at you didn’t exactly put me in the studious mood,” she added.  “So unless there’s anything in that fucking contract that means you get to have a say in what I do when I’m not at work, you can go fuck yourself.”

Gold raised a hand, spreading long fingers, his lip curling.

“Well, at least that way I can be sure of my sexual partner sticking around afterwards,” he said sarcastically, waggling the fingers, and stomped off towards the bar with a toss of his hair, leaving her quivering with outrage.

“Oh, wow,” remarked Ruby, and Lacey sat down, fuming.

“I know, right?  He’s such a - a...”

“No, I meant, wow, you two are blind idiots.”

 _“What?”_ Lacey glared at her, and Ruby shrugged.

“Just saying.  Pretty obvious you both want to bang until you pass out, and if you didn’t care about each other, neither one of you would have anything to be angry about, right?”

“That is _not_ how things are!”

“Whatever you say,” said Ruby.  “Drink up, it’s your round.”

Lacey pushed the twenty dollars across the table.

“Can you get them?  I’m not going to the bar if Gold’s there being a dick.”

Ruby rolled her eyes and muttered something about locking them in a closet.

“Fine!” she sighed, and Lacey blew her a kiss.

“Gotta go to the bathroom,” she announced, and slurped the last of her drink before pushing her chair back.

The lighting in the bathroom was harsh, and made her look pale and wan.  She checked her lipstick, pouting at herself in the mirror, and ran her fingers through her chestnut curls to take out some of the tangles.  She straightened the little dress, turning to catch a view of her rear, and grinned.  Seeing Gold had been a surprise, but she wanted to make sure she looked good, just in case he decided to stop by their table for another exchange of insults.  Bloody irritating man!

The corridor that housed the bathrooms had been empty when she went in, so the slouching figure halfway down was an unwelcome surprise.  She sighed inwardly as she recognised Nott.

“Thought I might catch you on your own,” he said.  “I saw you giving Gold a hard time.  Won yourself a round of applause from the boys.”

“Really?”  She raised an eyebrow.  “Didn’t hear you guys.  Maybe that’s because you’re all scared of him.  You know, way more scared than this five foot two woman.”

He shrugged, sweeping his hair out of his face and giving her his widest smile.

“Yeah, well, you can get away with more than we can.  I’m guessing he doesn’t want to fuck any of us.”

Lacey curled her lip.

“God, you really are gross, you know that?”

Nott spread his hands, looking affronted.

“Hey, it was a compliment!”

“Yeah, just what every woman likes to hear.  You’re a regular Casanova.”

She made to step past him, but he moved, blocking her way.  Lacey raised an eyebrow.

“Would you get out of my way?  Your casual sexism was the extent of our interaction this evening.”

“You’re starting to talk like him, you know.”  He turned, backing her into the wall and putting an arm either side of her head.  His breath reeked of beer, and she wrinkled her nose.  “Big words for a little man, and now you wanna use ‘em too.”

“It’s called a vocabulary,” she said, hoping she sounded more relaxed than she felt.  “Let me go, Keith.  Hate to have to kick you in the bollocks.”

“What, so you work for Gold, and now you’re too good for the rest of us?”

“I was too good for you when I was slinging burgers at Granny’s,” she said bluntly, and shoved at his arm.  He didn’t move.  “Let me go!”

“Make me.”

She brought her knee up, but he was ready for her, trapping it between his thighs.  His hands moved too quickly for her to follow, grasping her wrists and pinning her to the wall, and Lacey saw red, struggling hard.  She headbutted him, more by accident than design, her forehead connecting with his eye socket and causing a yell from him.

“You _bitch_!”

All at once there was a flash of gold at his throat, a choking, strangled noise, and then Nott was pulled backwards, away from her.  Lacey sank back against the wall, trying to slow her racing heart, her wrists stinging from his grip.  She heard a series of thumps and cries of pain, and looked up to see her attacker cowering on the ground and Gold with the handle of his cane raised, poised to swing at Nott’s ribs.

“Gold!” she said, and he turned to face her, his nostrils flaring, his eyes flashing.  She had never seen him so angry, and it was oddly arousing.  She shoved her feelings aside as she rubbed her wrists to ease the pain.  Nott was a creep, but that didn’t mean Gold should beat him within an inch of his life, which was what his face told her he wanted to do.  She had dealt with the man’s unwanted attentions before.  Besides, the Sheriff would take a dim view of that sort of vigilante justice, and she didn’t want to see Gold being locked up because he lost his shit and really hurt the idiot.

“Let him go,” she said firmly.

They locked eyes for a moment, and she thought he was going to refuse, but then Gold glanced over his shoulder at Nott, and jerked his head.

“Go on, fuck off.”

Nott scrambled to his feet, clutching his ribs, and Gold turned back to Lacey as the man staggered into the bar.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, and his mouth flattened.

“Me doing something I should have done a long time ago,” he said coldly.  “You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need your help!”  She brushed herself off.  “I can take care of myself!”

“Oh, yeah, it bloody well looked like it.” he sneered.  “Do you ever get sick of lying to yourself?”

“I had it under control!”  She put her hands on her hips.  “What, you think that’s the first time I’ve had to deal with a creep who thought he could put his hands on me?”

“Oh, I’m sure there have been many instances,” he said evenly, his eyes glinting.

“Fuck you, Gold!”

“That seems highly unlikely at the moment, wouldn’t you say?”

“The way I’m feeling right now I’d think it’s highly unlikely any time soon!”

He smiled thinly.

“Apologies, Miss French,” he said, and gave her a mocking bow.  “It seems that you have no interest in anyone showing the slightest regard for you.  Next time one of these Neanderthals decides he wants to try his luck, I’ll simply walk on by.”

He sauntered off, and she glared at his back as he pushed open the fire escape door that led to the back alley.  Her fists clenched and unclenched, and she squared her jaw before striding after him, her palm slapping against the door as it was swinging shut and shoving it open.  The night air caught her throat, the cold almost burning her, and he swivelled on his heels to face her, breath misting in the air.

“Why does everything have to be a bloody battle with you?” he snapped.  “Why won’t you let me help you?  Are you so bloody stubborn you’d rather struggle on your own than take an easier path?”

Lacey put her hands on her hips.

“Well excuse me if I don’t want to see you arrested!” she snapped.  “You looked as though you were going to kill him!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a loss to the world, now would it?”

“Gold!”  She stamped her foot.  “I’m being serious!  You can’t just beat the crap out of someone and expect the Sheriff not to care!”

“Is it the Sheriff who would care, or you?”

“Oh my God…”  She ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head.  “I don’t fucking believe this, an idiot puts his hands on me, and you’re _jealous_?”

 _“Yes!”_ he hissed.  “Of course I’m fucking jealous, what do you think?”

“I think you’re an insecure arsehole, that’s what I think!”

“Oh, _I’m_ insecure?”  He let his head roll back with a low chuckle.  “Well, that’s just rich, isn’t it?  What was it you said earlier?”

“What, the part about you getting bored of me or the part where you didn’t even tell me your name?”

A muscle twitched in his cheek.

“Lacey,” he began, more quietly.  “I—”

“This isn’t even about Keith, is it?” she interrupted.  “It’s about every other way in which you want to call the shots!  Did you give me that job because you felt sorry for me, or was it just so you could control your new pet project?”

“Giving you options is not calling the bloody shots!”  His eyes flashed at her.  “You are more than capable of doing the job I gave you, that’s why you have it!  I _want_ you to do well, Lacey!  I _want_ you to get that bloody SAT score and get another five dollars an hour out of me, because you bloody well deserve it!”

“Who appointed you my fucking Guardian Angel?” she demanded, too angry to acknowledge what he had said.  “What, you saw a hot mess serving coffee, and just thought you’d step in and fix my life?”

“Maybe if you weren’t so intent on sabotaging it, I wouldn’t have to!” he snapped.

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means that every time I try to do something for you, you either push back or you look for the ulterior bloody motive, that’s what!”  He stepped closer, looming over her despite his short stature.  “It means that you seem to think you’ll fail before you even try!  It means that you look at me and assume the worst just like everyone else in this town and I thought it might be different!”  His lips drew back over his teeth in a snarl, gold glinting on his lower jaw.  “Just for once, I thought you might be different.”

He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his eyes gleaming, and Lacey wanted to touch him, to pull him into her arms and tell him how she truly felt, to drag him down on the frosted ground and kiss him hard and show him that she loved him.  The words seemed to catch in her throat, making her gulp, and so she reached up, grabbed the lapels of his coat in her hands, pulled him to her and slammed her mouth against his.

Gold almost staggered with the force of her kiss, the cane bracing against the cold ground and his other arm going around her.  Lacey pushed his lips apart with her own, and he groaned in pleasure as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting whisky on her tongue, a raw fire that burned and seared.  He pushed her, shoving her roughly against the wall, pressing the length of his body against her, feeling himself harden as she moaned into his mouth.  The cane fell to the side, and he shifted his weight, sliding his knee up between her legs and pressing his taut thigh against her core, making her moan and push against him, rubbing at him with a circular twist of her hips.  He pulled his mouth from hers with a growl, kissing down her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume, his hands mapping her curves.

She threw her head back, baring her pale throat, and he bit down into her skin, sucking on her.  Her fingers scored his scalp, dragging through his hair as she moaned, and he pulled back, running his tongue over the deep red patch left by his mouth.  A surge of possessiveness welled up in him at the sight of his mark on her, and he wanted more, wanted to tear open her dress and kiss and bite her perfect breasts and leave his marks all over her, wanted her to run her fingers over them when she was alone and remember him touching her.  She was panting, her fingers tugging on his hair and causing sharp pains in his scalp, and he relished it, running his tongue up her throat to push in between her lips, his body pressing against hers.

Lacey moaned, and he slid a hand down her body as he let his leg drop, fondling and squeezing as he went, feeling the firm curves of her breasts and buttocks before tugging up the tiny dress and cupping her mound through her panties.  She moaned again, pushing against him, and he slipped his hand down the front of her underwear, finding her hot and slippery-wet, her clit a hard bud.  He groaned, pulling his mouth free to nip at her jaw, sliding two fingers inside her and pushing deep.  Lacey cried out, clinging to him, and he rubbed at her with the pad of his thumb, feeling her clench around him, gripping him tight.

“Fuck, you feel good!” he growled, and swept his tongue over her pulse, feeling the heavy throb of her heartbeat.  Lacey moaned again, rocking her hips against his hand, and he thrust his fingers in and out of her, wanting to be inside her, wanting to push her hard against the wall and pound into her.  She came quickly, her muscles clamping down on him as she let out a loud cry, and he felt the rush of hot fluid on his fingers, running down into his palm as he pushed and thrust and she clung to him, her moans growing softer, her legs shaking.

He pressed his brow to hers as he drew out the fingers, lifting his hand to slip them one by one into his mouth and lick off her salty juices.  He was sticky with her pleasure, and he grasped a handful of her hair with one hand and held her close, his other reaching up to cup her face, the thumb swiping over her lip and pulling it down to expose the glistening pink of her mouth.

“God, I want to fuck you, Lacey!” he rasped.  “I want to get all the way inside you!  Feel you all around me, hot and wet and...”

He slipped the thumb inside, his breathing ragged, and Lacey sucked hard, wrapping her tongue around him, her eyes meeting his as she tasted herself on him.  It was almost enough to make him burst, and he ached to be inside her.  The thumb slipped out, and he kissed her messily, his lips crushing hers, damp, sticky fingers spreading her scent over her face and in her hair.

Lacey tried to catch her breath, her body humming from his touch, her lips swollen and tender from the pressure of his mouth and the scrape of his stubble.  He pulled back a little, and she dropped her hands to tug at his belt, pulling it open and unfastening his pants to reach inside.  He hissed as she grabbed at his cock, hot and hard in the soft silk of his underwear, and she bent her head to lick his neck, her tongue rasping over his skin and drawing the sharp taste of him into her mouth.  He pulled her hand away, pressing her hard into the wall, his fingers sliding up between her thighs again and tugging her thong to the side.

Lacey moaned, her arms twining around his neck as she felt him push at her entrance.  A faint, distant voice was screaming that they had no protection, but she didn’t care, her legs opening wider to let him inside.  She pushed her nose through his hair, brushing his ear with her lips.

“Fuck me, Gold!” she breathed, and he growled in response and thrust upwards, sliding up inside her, filling her.

She lifted a leg, wrapping it around his waist, allowing him deeper, and he pushed upwards with a deep groan, slamming her against the wall, pulling a cry from her throat.  He felt amazing, deep, deep within her, her juices providing wonderful friction as he pushed and thrust, and he bit down into her neck again, needle points of pain in her skin, making her cry out.  Her fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at it as he fucked her, his thrusts long and swift, piercing her to the core.  Gold licked up her neck, his breath hot on her ear.

“Oh _fuck_ , Lacey!” he groaned.  “I have to come!  Gonna come inside you!”

His voice was a low, bass growl, rumbling through her and making her abdomen pull and tighten, and she felt him quicken the pace, his thrusts rapid, his cock thick and rigid, sliding in and out of her.  He threw his head back with a groaning cry, pulsing inside her, and she felt herself coming again, a low moan rising up from her lungs and bursting from her lips as stars blinded her.

She let her leg slip from around his waist, her foot dropping to the ground in a bit to keep her balance on legs that shook.  Gold was pressed against her, his body almost crushing her.  He was breathing hard, his forehead pressed to hers and the heat of his sweat on her brow.  She could smell her scent on his lips, mixed with cologne and his own musk, and it made her want him all over again.  But there was anger there, still, and resentment, and frustration.

The tip of his tongue slipped out, wetting his swollen lips, as though he wanted to taste her again, and his throat bobbed above the silk shirt as he swallowed. One hand reached up to cup her cheek, the thumb stroking gently over her skin.  Her fingers clutched at the fine wool sleeves of his coat, and his nose brushed hers, his eyes dark pits, gleaming in the pale glow from the streetlights.

“My name is Connor,” he said softly.


	21. The Road Is Wearier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Gold and Lacey had a spat, Gold almost beat the crap out of Keith for being a lech and then he and Lacey had angry sex in the alley. Here's what happened next.

For a moment there was silence other than the sound of their heavy breathing and the faint dripping of water somewhere in the alley.  Lacey dropped her eyes, staring at his throat just above his collar and the knot of his tie.  He was softening inside her, slipping from her, and he reached between them to tuck himself back in.  She heard the sound of his zip, the clink of his belt, the low sigh of his breath as he straightened up, one hand leaning on the wall to the side of her to keep his balance.  He tilted his head, trying to catch her eye.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she said stiffly.

“I - uh…”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m not made of glass, Gold.”   _Connor.  His name is Connor._

“Right.”

She didn’t know what else to say, so she straightened her dress, pulling her underwear back into place.  His seed was leaking out between her legs, and the sensation was uncomfortable.  There was pain, too: sharp on her neck, aching between her thighs.  She didn’t mind that too much.  He was staring at her as he straightened his tie, his hair rumpled from her fingers.  She picked up his cane and handed it to him, and he nodded his thanks.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and his eyes narrowed.

“Tomorrow?”

“I told Ruby I was going to the bathroom,” she said patiently.  “She’s probably looking for me.  So I’ll see you tomorrow.  At work.”

“I thought we’d agreed to have breakfast.”

“Yeah, well, that was before we spent most of the evening screaming at each other,” she said tiredly.  “I’ll see you at work.”

She turned on her heel before he could say anything more, stomping back into the club and feeling his eyes on her back.

Her legs were still a little unsteady, and she pressed her hand to the wall as she went, shoving open the door to the bathroom once she was inside.  She almost barged into Ruby, wide-eyed and worried, who visibly relaxed at the sight of her.

“Hey!” she said, sounding relieved.  “I was looking for you, where were you?”  She frowned, looking Lacey over.  “What the hell happened to you?”

“Well, it’s nearly November,” said Lacey, peering in the mirror and curling her lip at what she saw.  “Apparently that makes it horny pawnbroker season.”

Ruby giggled.  “Seriously?  Gold ravished you by the dumpster?”

“It wasn’t by the dumpster!” said Lacey defensively.  “And for what it’s worth he nearly beat the shit out of Keith and then we yelled at each other before he ravished me.”

“Okay, you guys suck at foreplay.”

Lacey sighed, inspecting the bite on her neck.

“At least tell me the sex was good,” added Ruby.

“Oh, the sex is always awesome.”  She ran her fingers over her swollen lips, tender from his kisses and the rasp of his stubble.  “We kinda fucked up though.  No protection.  I need to go get some Plan B or something.”

“Lacey…”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

Lacey huffed air through her lips, and Ruby put her head to the side.

“You wanna get out of here?” she asked, and Lacey turned to her with a sigh.

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” she said.  “Why don’t I stay at your place tonight?  I have to work tomorrow, but fuck it!  You’re only young and stupid once, right?”

“I have wine and terrible whisky,” offered Lacey.

“Young and _really_ stupid, then.”

They went to fetch their coats and sauntered out of the club, leaving their half-empty glasses where they were before setting off up the street.  Lacey shivered as the wind whistled around them, and hissed in vexation as they turned a corner.

“Shit, my purse!” she said.  “Hang on, I won’t be a minute.”

“Want me to come with you?”

Lacey waved a dismissive hand in the air, walking quickly back to the bar.  Their seats had been taken by a man and woman with their heads together, and Lacey scowled as she recognised Miss Green in conversation with a brown-haired man she didn’t know.  The woman pulled a face on seeing her, but Lacey didn’t bother waiting around to exchange insults.  She looked around for her purse, chewing her lip in frustration when it wasn’t where she had left it, and turned to the bar.

“Looking for this?”

Keith Nott was smirking at her, dangling the purse by its strap from one finger, and she snatched at it.  He pulled it out of reach.

“God, you’re a pain in the ass!” she snapped.  “Didn’t you almost get beaten up enough tonight?”

He pulled a face.

“Gold’s gone,” he said.  “Looks like you’re on your own, and I have something of yours.”

“So give it back.”

“What do I get in return?”

“How about the fact that I stopped him from breaking your ribs earlier?” she said.  “He would have, you know.  You’re lucky.”

“See, I knew you cared about me, Lace.”

“No, I’d just rather not have the guy that pays my wages locked up for beating the shit out of you.”

She snatched for the purse again, grabbing at it and overbalancing into his arms.  He chuckled, pinning her to him and kissing her neck.  She shuddered; he was sticky with sweat and stinking of beer, and she stamped on his foot, hard.

“Get off me, you pervert!”

She wrenched free, staggering backwards and grabbing at the back of a chair to steady herself.  He was grinning at her, and that bloody Green woman was _smirking_ , and she felt like screaming at everyone in the bar.  She shoved at Nott instead, pushing him aside and making for the door.

“Oh come on, I was just playing around!”

Lacey ignored him, stomping out and up the street.  He followed her a little way, shouting her name, but once she turned the corner he didn’t pursue her.  Ruby was huddled in the shelter of the hardware store, hugging herself to keep out the cold, and gave her a quizzical look.

“Keith being a wanker,” was all she said, and Ruby nodded and fell into step beside her.

Lacey was pleased to strip off the little dress as soon as she reached her bedroom, throwing it aside and pulling on her PJs.  She dug out a pair for Ruby to wear too, and shuffled into the lounge, where Ruby was sitting with two glasses of wine and the bottle open on the little table.  The kittens were butting their heads against her fingers, eager to be scratched.

“Jammies,” said Lacey, throwing them over.  “I thought it was chill-out time.”

“Thanks.”

Ruby pushed the kittens off her lap, taking a slurp of her wine before grabbing the pyjamas and going into the bedroom to change.  Lacey sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh, gathering up the kittens and burying her face in their fur, enjoying the loud buzz of their purring and the gentle tickle of their whiskers as they nuzzled her.

“So.”  Ruby’s voice made her look up.  “You want to talk about what’s going on?”

She sat down on the couch next to Lacey, drawing her feet up underneath her, and reached for her wine.  Lacey sat back with a sigh.

“Not really.”

“Okay, let’s start with something easy.”  Ruby took a sip of wine.  “How’s the job going?”

“Actually, _that_ part’s fine,” admitted Lacey.  “It’s enough work to keep me busy, but he doesn’t care how fast I do it, so it’s not high pressure, and he buys coffee and cake in the mornings and we have tea and cookies in the afternoon, and he tells me about some of the things in his shop.”

“Sounds less hectic than Granny’s, for sure.”

“Yeah.”  Lacey frowned.  “God, I might actually have to start cutting back on the cookies.  I’m sitting on my ass all day.”

“You could come running with me,” suggested Ruby, and Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Rubes…”

“Come on!  It’ll be fun!  Great endorphin hit.”

“You go out at like six a.m.!”

“Not at this time of year.”  Ruby took another gulp of wine.  “I either go after the early shift, or before the late one.  Come on!”

“I work eight-thirty to six most days,” Lacey reminded her.  “Maybe on Sundays, I guess.”

“It’s a date.”  Ruby beamed at her.  “So what else can you tell me about the job?”

Lacey chewed her lip, turning the glass around between her fingers.

“I - I actually had some ideas,” she admitted.  “Things he could do with one of his warehouses.  And - and I told him, and he didn’t tell me they were crap or just dismiss them out of hand.  So I guess maybe I don’t completely suck.”

“You don’t suck at all,” said Ruby, and grinned.  “Okay, that’s not what it says in the men’s room, but—”  She squawked as Lacey shoved her.  “Hey!  Watch my wine!”

They both giggled, grinning at each other.

“So the job’s going well,” Ruby said.  “But your boss is an overprotective asshole.”

“I just…”  Lacey sat back, stroking Minerva’s ears.  “It’s not that, exactly.  He says he wants to help me, and I keep pushing back.  Like I don’t trust him.”

“Is that true?”

Lacey hesitated, taking a long drink of her wine.

“Maybe,” she admitted.  “Maybe I’m waiting for him to screw me over.”

“Why would he do that?”  Ruby reached out to scratch Hagrid’s ears as he clambered into her lap.  “You’ve always said he’s fair.  That he keeps his word.”

“Yeah…”  Lacey pulled a face.  “He does.  I don’t know, I guess - I guess maybe things are going _too_ well, you know?  Like I have this new job, and I’m studying, and maybe my life isn’t headed straight down the toilet, and - and I’m not _used_ to that.”

“So what, you have to find a problem that isn’t there?”  Ruby held up a hand as Lacey frowned.  “Hey, I’m just saying.”

Lacey sighed, letting her head roll back against the cushions.

“Maybe.”  She turned her head to face Ruby.  “Any advice?”

“Beyond you two - oh, I don’t know - actually _talking_ about how you feel?”

“I don’t think we’re exactly on the same page,” said Lacey dryly.

“How would you know?”  Ruby sighed as she shrugged in response.  “Okay, in that case just take it easy.  Concentrate on doing your job, and maybe the rest of it will fall into place.”

“Yeah.”  Lacey chewed her lip, teeth pulling at the plump flesh.  “I need to stop letting that bloody Green woman wind me up, too.”

“She still have the hots for Gold?”

“Yeah, but there’s something else,” said Lacey slowly.  “She wants something from him.”

“Apart from the obvious?”

“Yeah.  Some business deal, I think.  I don’t know, I just don’t trust her.”

“So find out what it is,” suggested Ruby, and Lacey pursed her lips.

“I guess I could do that.”  She clinked her glass against Ruby’s.  “If nothing else it’ll stop me going out of my mind overthinking everything.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

* * *

The alarm going off at six was a rude awakening.

Lacey groaned, scrabbling blindly for her phone and hearing Ruby grumble beside her.  Her head was pounding, her mouth dry as chalk.  She managed to turn off the alarm and lay for a moment wondering if this hangover would be the one that killed her.  Certainly felt like the bastard was trying.

“Why did I let you talk me into the whisky?” moaned Ruby, and Lacey shot her an outraged look.

“Hey, the whisky was _your_ idea!”

“Huh.”  Ruby scrunched her nose.  “Yeah, that does sound like me.  What time did we go to bed?”

“Maybe three?”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, that kinda covers it for me too.”

Lacey slipped out of bed, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said.  “You have the early shift, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” grumbled Ruby.  “I’d better get home and change.  You still up for a run tomorrow?”

“Not the way I feel right now,” said Lacey.  “But yeah.  We should go.  Just don’t expect me to keep up.”

She dragged herself to the shower, and felt a little better once she was done.  Ruby had made coffee, and Lacey cradled a mug in her hands, sitting at the table with the cats winding around her ankles.

“I gotta go,” said Ruby, taking another gulp from her cup.  “Come over tomorrow morning at ten.”

“Assuming I haven’t died before then, sure.”

Ruby grinned at her, pulling on her coat, and Lacey got up to hug her.

The apartment was quiet when she left, and Lacey curled on the couch with her coffee, trying to ignore her pounding head.  It would clear with time and caffeine, but in the meantime it felt as though someone was trying to drill into her skull.  She sighed, hoping that Gold was in the mood for just leaving her to get on with things.  She didn’t think she could handle a conversation about anything more serious than the quality of Granny’s oatmeal cookies.

She managed to eat some breakfast and had another cup of coffee, and so she left the apartment with a few minutes to spare before she was due to start work.  It was a bright morning, and she squinted behind her dark glasses, wishing that the sun would head behind a cloud just for a few minutes.  Several of the townsfolk hurried past, but she didn’t stop to talk, arriving on the doorstep of the pawnshop just as the clock was approaching eight thirty.

Lacey shoved open the door, pushing her glasses up on her nose and wincing at the sound of the bell.  Thankfully the lights were muted, the sunlight filtering through the windows less harsh than outside.  Gold was standing behind the counter in his shirtsleeves, using a cloth to polish his nails.  The gold sleeve garters were on again, glinting in the early morning light, and he gave her a very even look.

“Cutting it fine,” he said.

“I’m on time, aren’t I?”

She stomped past him into the back room, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up before plugging in the laptop.  The ledger she had been using had been put back on the shelf, and she hissed in vexation as she went to pull it free and find the place she had marked with a square of paper.  The tap of his cane signalled Gold’s approach, and she looked around as he entered.  His hands opened and closed on the handle a little awkwardly, fingers flickering.

“Did you have a good night?” he asked, his tone careful.

“Don’t remember.”

She dropped into her usual chair, signing in to the laptop and checking her place in the ledger again.

“Right.”  He was silent for a moment.  “Is there - is there anything you need?”

“No.”  A thought occurred to her, and she turned to face him.  “Actually, I could use some time off.  Maybe a longer lunch break?”

“Of course.  Why don’t you come back at two?”

“Thanks.”

He hadn’t asked for her reasons, and oddly that made her want to tell him.

“I have to go to the pharmacy,” she explained, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Are you unwell?”

He looked concerned, and she felt a burst of affection for him.  Bloody idiot.

“No, I’m fine, it’s just - we kind of didn’t use any protection last night.  You remember?”

“Ah.”  His head dropped momentarily.  “Yes.  Vividly.”

“So, unless you want to hear the patter of tiny feet…”

She shrugged, and he looked up again.

“So you don’t take birth control, then?”

“No,” she said patiently.  “Hence the condoms.”

“I think the insurance would cover it, that’s all,” he said.  “You know, if you wanted anything more - reliable.”

“Oh.”  She hadn’t thought of that.  “Really?”

“I think so, but you could give them a call to check.”

He wandered out to the shop again, and she stared after him, chewing her lip.  That would certainly make things less complicated.

* * *

She managed to get the emergency contraception without any issues.  Tom Clarke was professional and detached about the whole thing, which made it easier.  Not that she thought he would judge her; he was actually pretty cool most of the time.  Gold stayed out of her way for most of the day, dusting the stock or going through his rent ledgers, and she was glad of it.  Her headache had cleared by the afternoon, and she managed to get most of the way through the ledger she was working on.  By the time six o’clock came, she was tired, but feeling better, and more inclined to talk to him.  Gold wandered through, reaching for his overcoat and watching as she turned off her laptop and stowed it away.

“How are things going?” he asked.  Lacey pulled a face.

“At this rate, I think maybe another week or so to get everything on the database,” she said.  “Then we have to go through the descriptions and take pictures, and you can tell me anything else I need to know about this stuff.”

“I see we’ve progressed from ‘crap’ to ‘stuff’,” he remarked.  “Thank goodness.”

His eyes were twinkling, and she gave him a wry look.

“Still don’t understand why people would pay good money for some of it,” she said.

“Because some see treasure where others see trash.”

“I guess.”

She stretched, standing up and pulling on her coat.  Perhaps he’d ask her to go for a drink.  They had planned to, before last night’s yelling incident.  She was prepared to say yes.  Gold gestured at the curtained doorway.

“After you.”

He followed her out through the shop, the cane tapping on the wooden floor, and Lacey waited outside as he locked the door after them.  Gold turned to her with a tiny smile, his breath misting in the air.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said.  “Enjoy your day off, Lacey.”

He turned and walked off up the street, leaving her staring after him.

“Yeah, I gotta go too!” she called.  “Lots to do, right?”

He waved a hand, but didn’t look around, and she glared at his back for a moment before telling herself she was being ridiculous.  She could spend a day without seeing the man.  It wasn’t as though they were joined at the hip.

* * *

She decided to go to bed early, to make up for the drunken night she had had with Ruby, and curled up with the kittens, snuggling down in the blankets.  The next morning dawned bright and cold, frost glittering on the trees and the heaps of fallen leaves, and Lacey shivered as she trotted over to Granny’s, clad in her track pants and sneakers, with a hat pulled down over her ears and thick gloves to keep out the chill.  Ruby beamed at her.

“Yay, this is gonna be fun!” she said enthusiastically, and Lacey sighed.

“Just go easy on me, okay?”

“I promise.  We’ll take the trail that runs past the old toll bridge, and maybe out towards Yellowbrick Farm.”

Lacey grinned at her.

“Yellowbrick Farm, huh?”

“I thought we could go and spy on that Green bitch,” said Ruby carelessly.  “You in?”

“I’m in.”

The cold air burned in her lungs as she jogged beside Ruby at a steady pace, their breath pluming in front of them.  Ruby seemed to find it easy, but Lacey supposed she went out more regularly.  She herself was breathing hard by the time they turned onto the hiking trail by the toll bridge, and Ruby slowed a little to let her catch her breath.

“If you come out three times a week with me, you’ll soon pick up the pace,” she chirped, and Lacey shot her a disbelieving look.

“Maybe in the spring when I can get out in the light.”

“No time like the present.”

“I guess.”

She was still panting a little, so she didn’t bother continuing the conversation.  Besides, she suspected Ruby was right, and if she was honest she was enjoying herself.  Orange sunlight gleamed through the trees, sparkling on the frost, and leaves crunched under their feet as they headed along the winding trail between stands of pine and leafless silver birch.

Yellowbrick Farm sat on the edge of town, nestled in the corner of a large, flat field, with two barns and a few small outhouses. Ruby drew to a stop beside the fence encircling the land, and nodded to the squat farmhouse.

“No car,” she observed.  “You think she’s out?”

“Probably.”

They skirted the fence, trotting in through the wide open driveway.  It was rutted, the muddy ground frozen solid with the frost.  Lacey jogged around to one of the barns, stopping by the wide wooden doors.  A thick padlock secured a heavy chain wrapped around the handles.

“Locked,” said Lacey.  “I wonder what she’s keeping in there.”

“You said she’s setting up in business,” said Ruby.  “What does she do?”

“Herbal remedies and beauty products, I think.  Maine in winter seems a weird place to be growing shit, though.”

“Maybe she has hydroponics, or something.”

“Don’t see any greenhouses, though,” said Lacey.  “Maybe that’s what she wanted to talk to Gold about.  I guess she’d need his agreement to any new structure, right?”

“Knowing him, yeah.”

Lacey walked around the side of the barn, spying a small window above head height.

“Hey, can you give me a boost?”

Ruby squatted, holding out her hands, and Lacey stepped onto it, allowing Ruby to push her upwards.  She squinted through the little window, trying to make out what was in the darkened barn.  Metal tanks stood side by side, along with large cardboard boxes and aluminium barrels.

“What do you see?” asked Ruby.

“Not sure.”  Lacey chewed her lip.  “A bunch of equipment, I think.  Stacks of boxes, barrels of - I don’t know, maybe fertiliser?  Could be what she uses to make the herbal shit.”

“I guess it could take a while to get set up if she’s growing her own plants.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

A terse, angry voice made Lacey look around, and Ruby hurriedly dropped her to the ground, straightening up.  The Green woman was glaring at them, eyes flashing, her reddish curls rippling in the breeze.

“Oh yeah, just checking the outhouses for storm damage,” said Lacey casually.  “You don’t want a leak in there ruining your - stuff.”

“Really?”  Miss Green’s voice was flat and disbelieving.  “On a Sunday morning?  In your - running gear?”

“All part of the service.”  Lacey grinned at her, and jerked a thumb at the barn.  “You’re making herbal crap, right?  Sounds interesting.”

“Get off my property, both of you!” snapped the woman.

Ruby and Lacey ran off, stifling their giggles, and headed back out on the trail.  Lacey cast a glance over her shoulder at the distant figure of Miss Green, who was staring after them with her hands on her hips.

"Think she'll say anything to Gold?" asked Ruby.

"Don't care if she does, he can't stand her."

"Still," said Ruby.  "You don't need any more trouble with the boss, right?"

"I think we're good," said Lacey, rolling her eyes as Ruby picked up the pace a little.  "Better than yesterday, anyway.  Besides, what's the worst she could do?"


	22. Ain't No Magic, My Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I only updated yesterday, but I've had most of this chapter written for a while, so I just had to finish it off.
> 
> Last time, Keith gave Lacey some unwanted attention, and Zelena caught the show. Obviously there will be consequences from this, because I'm a horrible person :)

Gold had decided to take his cues from Lacey, and when she greeted him with a smile on Monday morning, he felt the ice around his heart melt a little.  She chatted about going for a run with Miss Lucas the previous day, and complained that her legs were stiff, but that she hoped that would ease as she got used to it.  She seemed to be back to her old self, teasing him a little about his refusal to make the most of technology and darting out to Granny’s to pick up their mid-morning snack of cake and coffee.  It was as though she filled the shop with light, and he was happy to sit back and bask for a while, warmed by her presence.  By the time six o’clock came, he had come to a decision.

“Would it be okay if I take an hour or so off tomorrow?” she asked, as she turned off her laptop.  “I really need to get some chores done and buy some food for me and the cats.  Leaving at six doesn’t give me a lot of time for that, and you said we could negotiate time off.”

“Of course,” he said.  “Why don’t you leave at three?”

“That would be great.”

She reached for her coat, pulling it on and buttoning it, and he felt his heart swell as he watched her, at the light picking out highlights in her hair and gleaming on her skin.  God, he was a witless fool!

“Have dinner with me,” he said.  “Tomorrow night, my house.  What do you say?”

Lacey beamed at him as she stowed her laptop in her bag.

“I’d love to,” she said.  “That leaves me the rest of the week to study, and - and maybe you could teach me how to make something.”

He smiled.

“Consider it done.”

“Good.”  She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, stretching up on her toes and kissing his cheek.  “See you tomorrow.”

He watched her leave, feeling the tingling remnant of her kiss on his cheek, aware there was a stupid grin on his face, and not caring in the least.  It seemed that they were friends again.

* * *

Lacey was just as cheerful the next day, updating him on her studies, and the fact that the kittens were being naughty, which she put down to her not being around so much.

“They like attention,” she added, as he sipped his afternoon tea.  “I thought that with three of them, they could keep each other occupied, but it just means they all pounce on me when I get in and bite my shoes.”

“How’s the furniture coping?” he asked, and she sent him a guilty look.

“O—kay?”

“Sounds convincing.”

He was grinning behind his cup, and she sighed.

“That damage deposit may have to be waived.  They like to sharpen their claws on the couch.”

“Hmm.”  He set down his cup.  “Perhaps a scratching post, then.”

“Maybe.”  She drained her teacup, setting it next to his.  “Anyway, it’s three.  I should go.”

“I’ll see you later,” he said.  “Seven o’clock?”

“It’s a - a date.”

She blushed adorably, and he couldn’t help smiling.

“Yes.”

He was still grinning as she left, and he told himself to get a bloody grip.  She pulled away every time he tried to get close, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off again.  They would have dinner, and talk, and afterwards he would lead her upstairs to bed and take his damn time with her.  Perhaps she would even stay the night.  He wanted some progress: for them not to be so cautious of one another, for her to accept that he didn’t want to harm her.  He wanted - well, honestly, he wanted a relationship, which was a startling thing to admit to himself.  He had been alone and content for years without the need for companionship, and then Lacey French had turned his life upside down and made him _feel_ for the first time in forever.  It was exhilarating.

The shop seemed too quiet without her, and so as dusk fell he busied himself by going through the outstanding loan ledger and checking the pawned items for any that were due to be redeemed.  Little chance of Leroy Pitman coming in for that set of old tankards, he thought, so they would have to be put out for sale.  He was looking forward to Lacey finishing the cataloguing and actually selling some of the items. For a moment he indulged himself in a dream of her, imagining the sparkle in her eyes, the excited response when she made a sale.  When she proved to herself that she could be a success.  That would be a day to treasure.

The shop bell jerked him out of his brief daydream, and he frowned as he recognised his visitor.  Zelena Green marched up to the counter with a large leather satchel over her shoulder, slapping it down in front of him on top of the ledger he was reading.  Well, that was irritating.

“Miss Green,” he said evenly.

“I brought the plans for the greenhouses and ducting that I want to put in,” she said, reaching into the satchel and pulling out a thick sheaf of paper.  “Do you want to go through them now?”

“It’s almost six,” he said.  “And I have plans this evening.  I’ll go through them tomorrow, and perhaps we can discuss them on Thursday.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

He took the plans from her, stowing them on one of the shelves next to the counter, and she looked around.

“On your own today?”

“So it would appear.”

He turned back to face her, sweeping the satchel off his ledger and straightening the pen he had left there before it could roll away.  She snatched up the satchel, putting the strap over her shoulder again.

“Young people have no concept of punctuality,” she said, with a twist of her mouth.  “I’ve employed them before.  They seem to think it’s perfectly acceptable to keep their own hours.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he said coolly.  “But Miss French has taken some time off, with my blessing.”

“Oh.”  She tossed her hair.  “Well, all the better for me, I suppose.”

“No doubt she’d say the same.”

“She’s incredibly rude,” said Zelena, with a sniff.  “Almost as rude as you, in fact.”

“How about that?”  He showed his teeth.  “It’s like having an apprentice.”

“Poor customer service is hardly something to be proud of,” she said.  “You ought to be careful, or she’ll cost you business.”

“Like yours?”  He smirked.  “I think that’s business I can afford to lose, frankly.”

Zelena leaned on the counter, a tiny smile playing on her features.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’m proposing.”

Gold was silent for a moment, his mouth twitching with amusement.  He raised a finger, wagging it once, a sharp, accusatory movement.

“You’re Cora Mills’ daughter,” he said, enjoying the brief look of shock in her eyes.  “The last name threw me for a moment, but I knew there was something I recognised.  I could tell there was something of the grasping harpy about you the moment you walked in.”

“She sends her regards, too,” said Zelena dryly, pushing back and tossing her hair.

“And can I expect a visit from her, just to really add another shovel of shit to the midden that is my life?” he asked pleasantly, and her mouth twisted.

“She wasn’t planning on coming, no.”

“Lost her broomstick, did she?”  He grinned as she glared at him.  “And so she sent you to creep me out.  Why is that, I wonder?”

Zelena sighed, looking vexed.

“I told you, I have a business proposition.”

“I can already guarantee that I’m not interested.”

“You haven’t heard what it is yet.”

“Did my last sentence somehow lack clarity?” he asked coldly.  “I have no wish to be involved in Cora’s schemes.  I made the wrong choice twenty-eight years ago.  Fortunately I’m now older and very much wiser.”

“Pity.”  She looked over the shop.  “She told me you were always very open to the idea of profitable business ventures.  She said if I wanted to set up in Maine, you would be the man to see.”

Her words set off an alarm in his head, and he put down the pen before his tapping gave away his discomfort.  The last thing he needed was his old life crowding in on this one.

“Your business dealings are of no interest to me beyond the payment of rent,” he said.  “I’m sure Cora can give you plenty of advice.”

“She did.”  Zelena turned with a smile, stepping closer to lean on the counter across from him again.  “She told me to come and see you.”

“How thoughtful,” he said.  “I’m afraid she was wasting your time.”

He met her gaze, ensuring that his eyes were flat and emotionless, and after a moment Zelena sighed and pushed back.

“I don’t remember her mentioning a daughter,” he said.  “Of course, Cora was always the type to eat her own young, so perhaps that’s not surprising…”

“I was adopted at birth,” said Zelena, looking irritated.  

“Lucky you, I daresay,” he said dismissively.  “She never struck me as the type to show a child much warmth.”

“We’ve reconciled,” she said.  “She put her career first, I can accept that.”

“Seems to me you don’t have much choice.”

“I found out all about _your_ past,” she said snidely, her eyes glinting.  “ _Such_ a sad story.”

“I can’t think why you’d be interested,” he said.

“Because I’d like us to be friends.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“No, I would,” she insisted.  “I’m trying to make my own way in the world, and it’s important to surround yourself with like-minded people, don’t you find?”

“I try not to surround myself with people at all.”

“Hmm.”  She tossed her hair, wandering over to one of the shelving units.  “And yet you hired the waitress.  An unorthodox choice for an assistant.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her,” he said.  “But then so few people do.”

“I suppose she’s pretty,” said Zelena carelessly, looking over the figurines on the shelf.  “If you ignore the obvious.”

“Which is?” he asked, uninterested, and she looked around with a smile.

“Why, that she sleeps around, of course.”

Gold’s mouth flattened.

“Don’t speak about Miss French in that way,” he said coldly.

“I’m only speaking the truth,” she said, batting her eyelids in a parody of innocence.  “Not my fault if you don’t like it.”

Gold went to drum his fingers on the counter in irritation, but stopped himself before his fingertips could rap against the glass.  He had no desire to let her know she was getting to him.

“Small towns are filled with small-minded people,” he said.  “Let them talk, I don’t care.  Lacey’s past is her own affair, as is mine.”

“Oh dear.”  Zelena shook her head with a sigh.  “I’m so sorry, you really _don’t_ know, do you?”

“And what is it that I’m supposed to know?”

She stepped forward with a gleam in her eyes, the light of mischief glittering.

“It’s not her _past_ , dear,” she said.  “It’s her present.  And probably her future, let’s be honest.  She’s been cheating on you.”

Gold felt a finger of ice slide down the groove of his spine, a lingering brush from a malevolent spectre.

“And of course you have excellent evidence of this supposed infidelity?” he managed, surprised that his voice was so level.

“Oh, you hear all kinds of interesting things down at that dive of a bar,” she said vaguely, letting her fingers walk across the spines of books on the shelf.

Gold burst into soft laughter, his unease evaporating.

“The boasts of drunk young men?” he sneered.  “And this is something you put a lot of store by, is it?  Gullibility won’t help you in business, Miss Green.”

“Admittedly some of them _were_ just boasting,” she allowed.  “Or talking about their pasts with her, I’ll give you that.  But there was one who was quite insistent.  I even saw them together myself on Friday.  Very - physical - with each other, if you take my meaning.”

“Really?”  He kept his tone dismissive, the icy fingers caressing his sides and flickering over his belly.  “And this lucky lothario is..?”

“Keith something,” she said, and Gold wanted to hang his head.

“Handsome fellow,” she added.  “Oh - I took a picture of the happy couple.”

She scrabbled in her bag for her phone, thumb flickering over the screen before she turned it to face him, a wide grin stretching her lips.  Gold kept his face as expressionless as possible as he saw a slightly blurred photo of Lacey in Keith’s arms, his face buried in her neck as though he was biting her.

“All over one another, you see,” she said.  “Really, they were like animals.  Made the rest of us customers very uncomfortable.”

“Indeed?” he said levelly.

“He doesn’t have much between the ears, of course,” Zelena went on, “but then I daresay that’s not what’s most important.”

“I can’t think why you’re telling me this,” he said, in a bored voice, and she slipped her phone away with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, I just thought you ought to know,” she said, in sugary tones.  “A pretty face is all very well, but no one likes to be made a fool of.”

“Your concern for my social standing is noted,” he said.  “However, Miss French and I are neither married, engaged, or involved in a committed relationship.”   _Or so it seems.  Fucked if I know what the hell it is we’re doing._ “What she does in her free time is of no interest to me.”

“Oh, good,” she said, with a tinkling little laugh.  “From the look on your face just then I thought you were heartbroken.”

“No doubt you’ll be relieved to know that I’m quite well,” he said evenly.  “I am, however, fairly busy today.  If there’s nothing else?”

“No, that’s everything,” she said airily.  “Sorry to bring bad news to your door, I just thought you ought to know.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “I’m sure you had nothing but my best interests in mind.”

“Of course.”  She checked the clasp of her bag.  “So, I’ll see you on Thursday.  I’m sure we can come to an arrangement that’s to everyone’s advantage.”

“I’m sure we can,” he said, and nodded to her.  “Good day, Miss Green.”

She smiled, a wry twist of her mouth.

“Oh, I’ll have you calling me Zelena before long, I feel sure of it.”

 _Not bloody likely_.  He didn’t answer her, watching steadily as she smiled again and walked out.  The bell tinkled as the door closed, and he let go of the tension he had been holding in his body since she entered the shop, his breath hissing over his teeth as he leaned on the counter.  It was true, he and Lacey were not in a committed relationship, but he had thought she wasn’t seeing anyone else, despite the odd, unwelcome twinge of jealousy he had felt.  Still, he had only Miss Green’s word for what had happened, and he trusted her about as far as he could throw her.  He began to pace back and forth, uneasy over her revelation, and disliking that unease.  He was usually so good at reading people, and he had thought that Lacey - although leery of formalising whatever it was they had - wasn’t one to stray.

 _She told you of her reputation when you met_ , a snide voice whispered in his ear.   _Just because you thought it an exaggeration doesn’t mean it was._

That was true, he supposed.  They hadn’t really discussed their romantic pasts, or their future intentions, and he had no claim on her.  She was free to do as she pleased.  He had accepted this.  Or thought he had.

 _You accepted it when you thought she would stay with you_ , said the voice, sounding amused by his naivete.   _Making her come won’t make her love you, you idiot.  Beautiful young women are never short of admirers, and at some point she was always going to tire of you and move on.  Did you honestly think you could keep her?  You’re lame, universally disliked, and twice her age at least._

Insecurity rose in him, like bile in his throat, and his pace quickened, the cane tapping on the floor as he strode back and forth.  She was coming over that same bloody evening.  Coming over to his house for dinner in less than an hour.  He would have to raise the issue, he couldn’t just sit there and let it fester.   _How the hell to do that?_ ‘ _Lacey, I realise you and I have never said we’re exclusive but I had hoped you had better taste.'_ He shook his head in annoyance.   _No, you can’t say that, it’s none of your bloody business who she kisses, who she—_ He spun on his toes, glaring up at the ceiling with gritted teeth as he tried to dislodge the unpleasant images that had formed in his mind.   _None of this is her fault.  It’s yours, you fucking idiot.  You should never have touched her.  You knew it would hurt.  You knew it would burn the both of you, and you did it anyway._

* * *

Lacey was looking forward to her evening with Gold.  She intended to stay, and rather than do the walk of shame the next day, she took out one of her larger shoulder bags.  She packed it with clean underwear, a few small toiletries, and a dress that was more suitable for day wear than what she was currently wearing.  A velvet mini dress hugged her slim curves, displaying a generous amount of leg beneath the short skirt, black net covering the bosom and making up the little cap sleeves.  She had tied up her hair, and was eager to have Gold take it down and kiss the back of her neck as he undressed her.  Her belly tightened at the thought of it, her tongue slipping out to moisten her lips.  She had missed his touch.  More than that, she had missed his company, his sarcasm and their easy banter.  Realising that she was in love with him had made her pull back, and she wished she felt a little more secure.  More able to show him how she felt.

She sighed, turning in front of the mirror and giving herself the once-over.  For now she would make do with awesome sex and falling asleep in his arms, like they were a proper couple.

“What do you think?” she asked the cats, who were watching her from the kitten-pile they had made on her bed.  “He won’t be able to resist, right?”

Severus rolled onto his back, displaying a black furry belly, and she tickled him briefly, fingers scratching at heads and ears as the kittens nuzzled her.

“You guys be good.”

The night was cold, fog clouding the streetlights and drifting into her nostrils like freezing smoke, and she clutched her coat around herself, stepping carefully in her heels, but moving as quickly as she could.  The roads were already coated with frost, and the last thing she needed was a sprained ankle.  It was a relief when Gold’s house appeared through the fog, its warm lights spilling out into the darkness and guiding her way.  She hurried up the path, mounting the steps and knocking on the door, and watched as his shadow approached, briefly filling the rippled squares of coloured glass with a dozen twisted demons.

He opened the door, stepping back in silence, and she ducked inside, shivering.  Warmth wrapped around her, comforting, nurturing, and she heard Gold close the door behind her.  She shrugged off her coat, feeling him take it from her shoulders, and dropped her bag by the hall table.  She couldn’t smell anything cooking, and she wondered what he planned on making.

“Freezing out there,” she said.  “I think we’ll get snow tonight.”

“It seems likely, yes.  Would you like a drink?”

“Sure.”

She followed him into the lounge, where two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table.  Gold picked one up and handed it to her, then took up his own.

“I - uh - I thought we should talk,” he said, and she took a swallow of wine.

“That sounds ominous.”

“I hope not,” he said, looking into his glass at the rippling wine.  “I - there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Okay.”  She set her glass on the mantelpiece, turning back to him.  “Shoot.”

Gold hesitated for a moment, and then set down his own glass.

“Look,” he said.  “I realise I overreacted that night in the bar, and I’m sorry that we fought.”

“I know you are,” she said.  “That’s why I’m here, I thought we were okay.”

“It’s not about that,” he said.  “Not - not entirely, anyway.  You were right, Lacey.”

“I was?”

“Yes.”

He was looking at her calmly, and she could feel anxiety growing within her.

“You and I - although we’ve spent a lot of time together - we’re not…”  He cut off, his mouth working a little.  “We’ve never discussed our - situation.”

“No, I guess not.”

“And I have no claim on you,” he added.  “None whatsoever.  I had no right to be upset over who you might choose to spend your time with.”

Lacey’s brow crinkled.

“What?”

“I just - I just thought,” he went on.  “I thought maybe - the other night at the club, I thought maybe it meant something.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“When I…”  He opened and closed his fingers.  “When we…”

Lacey folded her arms, raising her chin.

“When you shoved me against the wall and fucked me until I screamed?”

His eyes gleamed, darkness seeming to cloak him, and she felt a lurch in the depths of her belly.

“Yes!” he hissed, gold tooth glinting as his lips pulled back, and she shrugged.

“It meant I had to explain myself to Ruby and wear a scarf afterwards, that’s for sure.”

Gold closed his eyes momentarily.

“I heard you left with that Nott cretin.”

Lacey felt her gaze narrow.

 _“What?”_ she asked dangerously.

“At least that’s what he’s supposed to be saying,” he added.  “Among others.”

“What _others_?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it bloody _matters_!”  She glared at him.  “You seriously think I’d sleep with Keith Nott?  The guy probably has chlamydia!”

Gold was looking as though he would rather be doing anything than have this conversation, and frankly she felt the same.  He’d bloody started it, though.  He looked awkward, his mouth twisting.

“I was shown a - a picture, that’s all.”

“What picture?” she demanded.  “Who showed you?”

“It was that bloody Green woman,” he said heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “And before you say anything, I’m well aware she can’t be trusted.  She showed me a photo of the two of you in - well, an embrace, I suppose.”

“Oh, so you think - what?”  She threw up her hands.  “I get my rocks off with you and then go home with him because God knows I’m a fucking insatiable tramp, right?”

Gold frowned.

“I would never say that about you.”

“You never have to!” she snapped.  “It’s all in the fucking _tone_ , the _insinuations_!  I’ve been listening to the same broken record from everyone in this town for the past five years and I’ll be damned if I'll hear it from you!”

“So you haven’t..?”

“No!” she shouted.  “No, I haven’t bloody well slept with Nott!  I haven’t slept with _any_ of them, okay?  There’s only one person I’ve slept with in this town and he’s standing in front of me being a fucking _jerk_!”

She was opening and closing her fists, her chest heaving in anger.  The fire crackled and snapped to the side of her, flames dancing, warm on her skin.  Gold had opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut, raising a finger.  It looked like an accusation, and she was immediately on her guard, her skin tingling, her heart thumping.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, ‘ _only one’_?” he demanded.  “I’m well aware of your past, you told me of your reputation when we first got together!  If it wasn’t any of _The_ _Rabbit Hole_ loser squad then who was it?”

“Are you incapable of understanding basic sentences?” she snapped.  “It wasn’t _any_ of them!  It wasn’t _anyone_!”

“But I…”

“You were my first!” she interrupted, and he blinked.

“What?”

“My _first_ ,” she said.  “My - my only.”

Gold stared at her, his lips slightly parted.  Any normal person with that same look in their eyes would have been yelling, but this was Gold, after all, so she supposed she should take what she could get.  He shook his head.

“I - I don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“What, are you stupid or something?” she demanded.  “You were the first to see me naked, got it?  The first to take me to bed, the first - God, the first for so many bloody things!”

He was still staring at her, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and it only made her angrier.

“I was a virgin, Gold, you _moron_!” she stormed.  “And - and then…”

She gestured between them, and he opened and closed his mouth.

“But,” he began, “but I - I thought…”

“Yeah, you _thought_ ,” she said, aware that there was an accusatory tone in her voice.  “Everyone in this town _thought_.  No one _knew_.  No one bothered to fucking _ask_ , they just _assumed_.”

Gold ran a hand over his face, a glint of anger in his eyes.

“So you were an innocent, then?” he demanded.  “I - I took your virginity, and - and you didn’t even _mention_ it?”

“What, were you expecting a fucking _thank you_ card?”

“I wasn’t expecting this!”

“When the hell was I supposed to bring it up?” she asked, throwing up her hands.  “We didn’t exactly talk sexual histories, did we?”

“Well, maybe we should have.”

“Maybe it’s too fucking late!”

“How could you _not tell me_?”

“How is it your _business_?”

“But I…” he began.  “I mean, we…”

 _“What?”_ she demanded, hands on hips.  “You told me fuck all about your past conquests, because I didn’t bloody well ask!  If it’s such a big bloody deal to you, maybe you should have given me a fucking sexual history questionnaire along with the employment contract!”

“Don’t do that!” he snapped.  “Don’t act like this is nothing!”

“It _is_ nothing!” she shouted.  “At least, nothing important!  I realise you guys think it’s some kind of big deal to be the first one in there, like you’re planting a fucking flag or something, but I personally couldn't give a rat’s arse!”

He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, and she glared at him.  Gold ran a hand over his face, shaking his head a little, his anger seeming to evaporate.

“Oh, Lacey, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and she took a step back, confused.

“You’re _sorry_?” she said.  “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She folded her arms.

“I dunno, mister, maybe you have to have an IQ above ‘assistant’,” she snapped.  “I’m a bloody idiot, so why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” he shot back.  “You’re not an idiot!”

“Clearly I am, because I don’t see what the big deal is here.”

“You should never have given yourself to me!”

“I don’t remember you complaining, Gold.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, beginning to pace in agitation.

“No, I really don’t.  What the hell are you bitching about?”

“I shouldn’t have been your first,” he snapped.

“What fucking _difference_ does it make?”

“It makes _all_ the difference!” he said, rounding on her.  “I thought - I thought you were - _experienced_!”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because it shouldn’t have been me,” he said.  “It should never have been me.”

“I _wanted_ it to be you!” she insisted.  “I decided it was gonna be you the moment you told me about what my dad had done!”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes flashing.  “To - to get _back_ at him in some way?  To prove a bloody point?”

“No!”

“Then I don’t understand.”

Lacey sighed.

“Because I knew you’d be good to me,” she said.  “I thought - I _knew_ I’d be safe with you, do you get that?  I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

His eyes softened.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”  She threw up her arms.  “Why is this such a big deal to you?”

“Because you deserved better!” he shouted.  “It should have been - it should have been something _special_!”

“It _was_!” she insisted.  “It was the best night of my _life_ , don’t you get that?  It was _perfect_!”

She was breathing hard, tears stinging her eyes, and he was staring at her, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him.

“What the hell would you have done if you’d known?” she asked.  “Dumped a sack of rose petals on the bed?  Dressed me in white and had me carry a bouquet up to the bloody bedroom?  Hired a bloody string quartet to play along?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he snapped, and pulled a face.  “Well, maybe the rose petals.”

“Gold…”  She groaned, running her hands over her face.  “Look, we had amazing sex and I had a bunch of orgasms.  That’s more than most girls can say about their first time.”

He stared at her, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I wish you’d told me.”

“I’m telling you now.”

Gold heaved a sigh, dropping his eyes, his fingers tightening on the cane.  She was right, it was none of his business whether she had slept with one person or a hundred.  He glanced up, and Lacey picked up her glass, taking a drink and staring into its depths for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his.

“Look, I’m gonna go,” she said.  “Not really in the mood for dinner right now, okay?”

“Of course,” he said quietly.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

The word was barely more than a whisper, and he lifted a hand, as though he would reach out to her.  As though he would touch her.

“I’m sorry, Lacey,” he said gently.  “I truly am.”

“I know,” she said wearily.  “God, Gold, I know you’re sorry.  It’s like you’ve been sorry since we met, and I don’t even know why.”

She was shifting from foot to foot, eyeing him cautiously, her shoulders a little hunched, and he was reminded vividly of a feral cat he had once seen by his porch, narrow-eyed and thin, watching him suspiciously.  A creature that wanted the love and affection that was now a distant memory, but was too used to being met with neglect and abuse, with the strike of a foot or the harshness of curses.  He had tried to pet the cat, but it had scratched his hand and run away, unable to trust him enough to let him close.  He had backed off, sucking his cut hand, and the cat had not returned.  Perhaps he should back off now, before Lacey ran from him.  Before he lost her forever.

She set down her glass, the wine barely touched, and went out into the hall, and he watched her go, long legs striding away from him in those ridiculous shoes.  He heard the rustle of her coat as she pulled it on, and then she reappeared in the doorway, a slender silhouette, her chin raised.

“See you around,” she said, and then she was gone, taking the light from the room with her and leaving him in bitter, choking darkness.


	23. Fear What You Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time Gold suggested Lacey had slept with Keith, and Lacey dropped a bombshell on Gold. Neither of them handled it too well. So Lacey left. Here's what happened next

Lacey stalked down the street, walking quickly, her arms folded protectively around her middle.  Her breath huffed out as she went, mist billowing from her nostrils.  Her anger had gone, replaced by frustration and weary sadness.  She hadn’t wanted a fight.  She had wanted to have dinner with him, to talk and giggle and spend the night in his arms and pretend she meant something to him other than a project, a charity case.  But then he had all but accused her of sleeping around, and it had pushed her buttons, and she had lashed out.  And now everything sucked.

She stopped for a moment, wanting to scream up at the sky.  Bloody Keith!  And that bloody Green woman!  What the hell was her fucking problem anyway?  She stamped her foot, walking on.  She had considered simply going home, but she needed a drink, and _The Rabbit Hole_ was out of the question, in case she saw either of them and broke a chair over their stupid heads.  Granny’s, then.

The diner was thankfully quiet, just a few couples chatting over the remains of their meals, and several men drinking at the bar.  Leroy was there, hunched over a beer, a shot of whisky to his left, and Lacey slid onto the seat next to him.

“Hey,” she said disconsolately.

“Hey yourself,” he said, and looked her over.  “You okay?”

“No.”  She glanced up as Granny bustled over.  “Can I get a beer?  Dammit, give me a whisky, too.  This evening can bite me.”

Granny gave her a look over the top of her glasses that was half disapproval, half amusement, but went to pull a beer.

“I hate to ask,” said Leroy, under his breath, and Lacey turned to him.

“What do I look like to you?” she demanded, and Leroy wrinkled his nose.

“Pissed?” he offered.

“Apart from that.”

“I dunno.”  He wriggled in his chair.  “Hungry, maybe.  You want to split a plate of cheese fries?”

Lacey sighed in frustration, then waved a hand.

“Yeah, okay.”

She slumped a little in her seat, resting her chin in her hands, and Leroy took a slurp of his beer.

“This is about Gold, right?” he said.  “You two have a fight?”

“When do we not?” she said gloomily, nodding to Granny as the beer was set in front of her.  “You know that Green woman?  Zelena-whatever-her-name-is?”

“Not personally, but I’ve seen her around.”

“Yeah, well, apparently she had a photo of me in ‘an embrace’ with Keith Nott.”  She hooked her fingers in air-quotes.  “So she showed it to Gold.  Keith had tried to take my purse and I overbalanced trying to get the fucking thing back.  She damn well _knew_ that, and she showed him anyway!”

“So did you tell him that?” asked Leroy, and Lacey hesitated.

“Not - exactly,” she admitted.

“He accused you of sleeping around and you lost it?” he guessed, and she sighed.

“That’s not exactly it, either,” she said.  “He didn’t - it wasn’t even an accusation, it was more like he’d _expected_ it.  I don’t know, maybe I’m not explaining it well…”

“You’re pissed because he wasn’t surprised, is that it?”

“Yeah.”  She took a long drink of her beer, wiping foam from her upper lip.  “He wasn’t even mad, it was more like he was disappointed.  It made me feel like shit, it was awful.”

“So tell him it was a misunderstanding and the Green bitch is a troublemaker.”

Lacey pulled a face, wrinkling her nose.

“There’s more,” she said.  “Can we go sit somewhere else?”

“Sure.”  Leroy downed his shot of whisky and picked up his beer.  “Granny, can we get a portion of cheese fries?”

“I’ll bring ‘em over!” she called, and Lacey slid from her stool, following Leroy to one of the booths.

“Am I gonna need brain bleach after this?” he grumbled.

“What?  No!”  She stuck her tongue out at him, and he sighed.

“Go on, hit me.”

“Okay, so you’re a guy, right?”

“Is that a serious question you want me to answer?”

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Look, I just need a guy’s perspective, okay?” she said.  “Okay, so let’s say you’re dating someone—”

“I’m not sure I have the imagination for this.”

“Leroy!”  She glared at him.  “I’m being serious here!”

“So am I.”  He took a long drink.  “I haven’t kissed a girl since I was your age.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think I’m such a miserable bastard?”

Lacey giggled.

“Oh my _God_ , me and Ruby need to set you up with someone!” she said.  “Remind me to take you out sometime.”

“Let’s deal with your problem first, huh?” he said dryly.  “And ditch the hypotheticals, would you?  Just tell me what you two idiots did.”

Lacey sighed.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.  “So he’d brought up this bloody photo issue, and I flipped out and told him I’d never slept with Nott or anyone else for that matter, and he tried to argue the point, and so I let slip that he was my first.”

Leroy choked, beer splattering across his beard and onto the back of his hand.

_“What?”_

“Not you, too!” she sighed, slapping her palms against the table.  “He was my first, okay?  My only, actually.  And he acted like it was some big bloody deal and I shouldn’t have kept it from him.”

Leroy was staring at her, and she felt her mouth flatten.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…”  He shook his head.  “You always talked like - like - well, like that horse had left the stable, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I never lied,” she said defensively.  “And a girl can joke about sex without actually doing it, you know.  You know, like guys do.”

“Hey!”  He looked affronted, and she giggled.

“So come on.”  She nudged him.  “Gold _totally_ flipped out.  Said I should have told him, that it shouldn’t have been him, that it should have been ‘special’ or whatever.  That normal?”

“Dunno if I’m the one to ask,” he admitted.  “But - well, I kinda feel bad for the guy.”

“Why?”  She threw up her hands.  “Help me out here!  I feel as though I’m in some sort of underground labyrinth where all the doors can only be opened with testosterone, so I’m walking in fucking circles.”

Leroy sighed, taking another gulp of his beer.

“Look, it’s supposed to be a big deal, right?” he said patiently.  “That’s what all the books say, all the romance novels.”

“I don’t give a crap about any of that!”

“Yeah, but that’s you,” said Leroy.  “Gold’s a lot older, and way more traditional.”

“Traditional, huh?” remarked Lacey.  “Doesn’t stop him talking dirty or being a kinky bastard with that cane, but okay.”

“Oh my—”  Leroy groaned, letting his head drop.  “You promised no brain bleach!”

“Sorry.”  She chuckled.  “Go on, you were saying.”

He looked up again.

“So yeah, traditional,” he said.  ““I’m betting he’s more of a classics man when it comes to reading, so he probably would have wanted to take things slowly.  Be more - I don’t know, thinking about you two naked makes me want to hit myself in the head with something - but he’d want to take his time.”

“Take his time,” said Lacey slowly.

“Yeah, he’d want it to be special,” added Leroy.

“But it _was_ special!” she insisted, leaning on the table.  “It was _awesome_!”

Leroy groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Look, put it this way,” he said.  “He’s the richest guy in town, he’s been alone for years, and then for some reason, out of the blue, he winds up in bed with this hot young thing.”

“Not seeing the problem.”

“And at first he thinks it’s no big deal, because the hot young thing kind of has a reputation, and so he just goes with it,” added Leroy.  “But then he pretty much accuses her of sleeping around and finds out that not only is _that_ a crock of shit, but also that she was an innocent and he’s the guy that took that away.”

“Yeah, because I _wanted_ him to!”

“I’m just saying he probably feels like a total shitheel,” said Leroy.  “I would.”

Lacey sat back.  “Really?”

“Yup.”  He drained his glass, and she shook her head.

“That makes no sense.”

“Hey, you wanted a guy’s perspective,” he said.  “You never asked for sense.”

She snorted, and took a drink.

“You want another?” he asked, and she nodded.

He got up to go to the bar, and she shifted in her seat, cradling the glass in her hand before downing the last of her beer.  Maybe Leroy was right.  Maybe she needed to talk to Gold about it.  She wasn’t sure that she could face it right now, but the longer she left it, the worse it would get.

Granny set a plate of cheese fries in front of her, and Lacey pulled one off the top, strings of cheese stretching and snapping.  She chewed, reaching for another, and nodded to Leroy as he set down her second beer.

“So,” he said, after he had eaten half a dozen of the fries and taken a slurp of beer.  “What are you gonna do?”

Lacey shrugged.

“Talk to him, I guess,” she said.  “I’ll be damned if I let that Zelena bitch call the shots in my non-relationship.”

“What makes you call it that?” he asked, and her mouth twisted.

“Because that’s what it is,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.  “What are you to each other?”

“We’re—”  Lacey hesitated, trying to find the words.  "Well, I guess we’re kind of friends.”

“So you’re not his girlfriend, then?” asked Leroy.

“He gave me a job, and sometimes he cooks me food and I drink his wine and we talk,” she said impatiently.  “Okay, _occasionally_ we have awesome sex, but that doesn’t make us a _thing_.  It’s not like we’re soulmates, he’s just - we’re friends.  With benefits.”

“And is that enough?” he asked.  “Because I don’t think you’d be in here moping with me if you’d just had a fight with your ‘friend’.”

Lacey didn’t answer, and Leroy sighed.

“Would you just admit that you’re in love with the guy, already?” he snapped.  “At least admit it to me, even if you won’t tell him.”

Lacey glared at him, and Leroy shook his head.

“Lacey…”

She continued to glare, but he met her eyes silently, and she threw up her hands, leaning forwards.

“Alright, _fine_!” she said, in a low whisper.  “If you tell a _soul_ I will _murder_ you!”

Leroy sighed.

“In the name of all that’s holy, just tell him you love him and want to have his babies, would you?”

“Oh yeah, I can just see that conversation going well!” she snapped.

“Course you wouldn’t, you never think anything’s gonna go well for you,” he said.  “Doesn’t mean it can’t.”

“I’m not ready,” she said stubbornly.  “And - and he’s _definitely_ not ready.  And - and anyway, I’m fucking terrified, okay?”

“Of _what_?” he asked, leaning close.  “Rejection?  Because from what you’re telling me he seems pretty into you.”

“Making someone come doesn’t make them love you,” she said, and he groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“Okay,” he said through his fingers.  “So if you’re not gonna tell him, what’s your plan?”

Lacey hesitated, tapping her fingertips against her beer glass.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “Everything was fine until I got hit with a bunch of feelings and crap.”

“Well, they ain’t gonna go away,” said Leroy patiently.

“I know, I know…”  She took a long drink.  “Maybe we could just take it easy.  Keep things - casual.  See how it goes.”

“I still think you should just tell him how you feel,” he said, and she sighed.

“I will,” she said.  “When I’m ready.  When it feels right.”

* * *

She stayed for another beer, and a couple of shots, and then Leroy walked her home, giving her a hug and muttering gruffly that she needed to stop being so hard on herself.  She was tired when she closed her apartment door, and so she made herself some cocoa and curled up with the kittens to mull over what she would say to Gold the next day.  She didn’t want things to be any more awkward than they already were.

The next morning was gloomy, the clouds heavy and grey and the scent of rain in the air.  Lacey shivered as she hurried to Gold’s shop, head down, hair whipped by the cold wind.  She was early; it had just passed eight o’clock, but she figured he would already be there.  The lights were on, the door unlocked, and she ducked into the shop, closing the door behind her as the bell rang to announce her presence.  Gold appeared from behind the curtain.  His suit was as perfect as ever, his tie straight, his shirt without a wrinkle marring the dark blue silk, but there were shadows beneath his eyes, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep, and she sighed to herself.  They needed to sort this out.

“Hey,” she said, and he nodded.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Lacey walked through to the back room, passing close by him, and dropped her laptop onto the table, shrugging off her coat before turning to face him.  He had ducked through the curtain again, and was watching her somewhat warily.

“Look, for what it’s worth, that Green woman knew she was talking shit,” she said.  “Keith stole my purse and wouldn’t give it back because he was being an arsehole.  I grabbed at it, overbalanced and he grabbed me, and I guess that’s when she took the photo.  She saw the whole thing, she was lying to you.”

“I believe you,” he said.  “I do, I promise.  I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Yeah.”  She shuffled her feet awkwardly.  “Well, I guess I’m sorry for walking out.  I needed to think.”

“I imagine we both did.”

There was silence for a moment, the faint tick of clocks marking the time, and Lacey sighed.

“Look, we can’t go on like this,” she said.  “I miss the way things were!  I miss just - just having some fun with you!”

Gold blinked.

“Fun,” he echoed.

“Yeah, like when you used to just show up at my house with wine and cat food and we’d talk and fuck and it was - well, it was fun,” she said.  “I miss that.  Can’t we do that again?”

Gold was silent, fingers opening and closing on his cane.

“You want to keep things casual, is that it?” he asked eventually.

“When were they not?” she asked.  “It’s not like we were engaged, is it?”

“No, I suppose not.”  He looked down for a moment, then met her eyes.  “In that case would it be alright if I came over on Friday night?”

“Are you bringing food?”

A ghost of a smile curved his lips.

“Yes, I’ll bring food.  And wine, if you’re lucky.”

“It’s a date, then.”  She put her head to the side.  “Are we friends again?”

The smile widened slightly.

“We were always friends, Lacey.”

She felt relief wash over her.

“Okay then,” she said.  “Am I going for the coffees this morning or are you?”

“I could do with one now,” he said.  “Why don’t we both go?”

“Sure.”  She smiled at him, and picked up her coat again.  “If you like I’ll even buy you a doughnut.”

* * *

Granny’s was busy, but they managed to find a table by the window, and Ruby brought them coffees and doughnuts, winking at Lacey and smirking at Gold.  Lacey took a bite out of the doughnut and dropped it back on the plate, sucking sugar from her fingers, and he glanced up at her.

“Miss Green is coming into the shop tomorrow to talk through the plans she gave me,” he said.  “I think I’d prefer to speak to her alone.  Would you like the afternoon off?”

“Um - sure, thanks,” said Lacey.  “By the way, Ruby and I swung by her place.  She has barns full of machinery and equipment and a bunch of barrels of crap.”

“What sort of crap?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Dunno, she chased us off before we could get a proper look.  Besides, it was all locked up tight, we just peered through a window.”

“When was this?”

“Sunday.”

Gold nodded slowly.

“Well, I can look into that,” he said.  “I think it’s best you stay away from her.”

“Suits me,” she grumbled.

“Good.”  He took a drink.  “Now, I believe the two of us have been meaning to have a conversation about your ideas for the business.  Why don’t we do it now?”

“Oh.”  Lacey put down her doughnut, eyes wide.  “Um - okay.  Yeah, the website.  Well, I looked into some prices for different levels of shit, so I can show you those back at the shop.  I can set it up so you run both businesses off it, with payment links to different accounts for rent or loans or antiques, and it can all go through to the online accounts program.”

“The online accounts program I don’t have?” he said dryly, and she sighed.

“Look, I realise you’d rather use a quill pen and ink and have the rent paid in gold sovereigns,” she said.  “But honestly it’s not complicated.  You don’t have to use the bloody accounts, you could just transfer the information into those big-ass ledgers whenever it’s time to do taxes.”

“Hmm.”  He took a bite of his doughnut.

“But it really would be better if you just switched up a gear and joined us in the twenty-first century,” she added.

Gold put the doughnut down, chewing and swallowing before lacing his fingers together.

“Alright, Miss French,” he said.  “Convince me.”

“Letting people pay you direct would leave you time to do other things, right?” she said.  “I could run off a report at the end of each day and you could check it against your ledger to see who’s paid and who hasn’t.  It would make your rounds shorter.  That’s more efficient.”

He inclined his head.  “Fair point.”

“It’s easier to keep a record of what’s sold, too,” she added.  “If you want to double-up with the ledgers, you can, but you really wouldn’t have to.”

“And you’ll have no difficulty running these reports and going through them as one of your tasks?” he asked.

“I just need the details of the bank accounts to set up Paypal,” she said, and he nodded.

“Very well, we’ll give it a try,” he said.  “How do you propose we tell the tenants and debtors?”

“We can write to them, I guess,” she said.

“Maybe you could do that?” he suggested.

“Me?”

Gold spread his hands

“Why not?” he asked.  “You’re my assistant, aren’t you?”

“Okay…”  She chewed her lip, wondering what she should write.

“I can look it over if you like,” he offered.  “Now, why don’t you tell me what else you had thoughts about?  The warehouse down on the docks.”

“The small businesses?” she asked eagerly.  “Well, I did have some thoughts.  I made a note on the laptop of who might be interested.  There’s about ten that I can think of at the moment.”

“Perhaps it’s something we can discuss over dinner, then,” he said.  “Why don’t you talk to some of these people and see if there’s any interest?  We’d need a rough idea of the area each person would need, and any adjustments that would need to be made to the building.  Find out whether they would need finance, too.”

Lacey shot him a look.

“See, I knew there’d be a new angle you could work in.”

Gold grinned at her.

“I’m a businessman, dearie, not a charity.”

She rolled her eyes, secretly amused, and his grin widened.

“Talk to those you’ve identified,” he said.  “I need details, and figures, and your assessment of the risks.  Bring me a report at the end of the week, and I’ll consider your proposal.”

“I’d need some time out of the shop, then.”

“Take all the time you need.  The ledgers aren’t going anywhere.”

He picked up his doughnut again, and Lacey shook her head.

“Wow,” she remarked, sitting back in her chair a little.  “This is - this is like a _job_ , isn’t it?  I mean this is a _real fucking job_!”

“I didn’t give you this position just because I like you, you know,” he said.  “I’ve told you before, I think you can excel in this role.  Show me I’m not wrong.”

“Right.”  She took a drink of coffee, nodding, and shot him a challenging look.  “I want that pay rise, Gold.”

His mouth pulled up at one corner.

“Then you know what you need to do, don’t you?”


	24. You Were The Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey told Gold she wanted to keep things casual, which he was gutted about but of course didn’t admit it. They did however arrange a Friday night date, so - yay for progress!

Gold felt a little lighter when Lacey left at the end of that day.  Granted, they were not in the place that he wanted them to be, but they were getting along, and she had invited him over that Friday.  He had told himself some time ago that he would follow her lead when it came to their relationship, and so he was running through what he might cook for her, and what he should take.  Firstly, of course, he had the meeting with Zelena Green to contend with.  He had looked over the plans she left, which seemed straightforward enough, but Lacey’s comments about what she and Ruby had seen had left him curious, and so after Lacey left with a smile and a cheerful goodnight, he picked up the phone.

“Gold,” said Jefferson.  “Calling to brighten my day?  What can I do you for?”

Gold rolled his eyes.

“I have a job for you,” he said.  “I need you to do some reconnaissance at Yellowbrick Farm.  I have a new tenant out there who’s aroused my suspicions.”

“Sure thing.  What’s the cause of this - arousal?”

Gold could _hear_ him grinning, and sighed.

“Apparently she has a lot of equipment and a bunch of barrels of unknown substances,” he said.  “Could be fertiliser.  Could be something nastier.  I don’t want the water table around here being affected if she can’t clean up after herself, and I don’t want to be stuck with a clean-up bill if she hightails it out of here.  Which, knowing her antecedents, isn’t unlikely.”

“I’ll check the place out,” said Jefferson.

“Good.  She’s coming to meet with me tomorrow.  Five o’clock.  Should be gone an hour.”

“I’m on it.  When do you want me to report back?”

“You can leave it until Monday,” said Gold.  “Unless you feel it’s urgent.”

“Monday’s good.  Six-thirty?”

“Agreed.”

Gold put down the phone, drumming his fingers on the counter.  What the hell was she up to?

* * *

Thursday dawned grey and miserable, and he scowled at the rain lashing the windows.  Business was even quieter than usual, and Lacey left the shop after lunch as agreed, telling him that she intended to use her time to speak to those she had identified as having possible small business interests.  He spent his afternoon going through his finances, thinking about how much he wanted to invest in this idea of hers, if they chose to go ahead.  It would be good for the town if they could get more businesses off the ground, and that meant it was good for him.  If the figures added up, of course.

The bell above the shop door ringing caught him off-guard, and he closed his ledger as Zelena Green approached the counter, reddish curls bouncing.  She smirked as she saw him standing alone.

“On your own again?” she asked.  “This is becoming a habit.”

“Miss French left the shop three hours ago, at my suggestion,” he said.

“I don’t know why you don’t just fire her and have done with it,” she said with a sniff.  “It’s painfully obvious that she’s little more than decoration.”

For a moment, Gold wished that he had the power of magic and could summon a fireball to burn her to a crisp.  He smiled instead.

“Well, she can’t fucking stand you, and you’re bloody rude to her,” he said.  “All in all I think the two of you not interacting was the best solution.”

Zelena’s nostrils flared.

“Perhaps we could get down to business,” he went on, before she could respond.  “I’ve had a look at the plans you gave me.  They seem straightforward.”

“Then you’ll allow me to make the improvements?” she asked.

“Perhaps.”  He took the plans from the shelf beside him, pushing them across the desk.  “Why don’t you explain to me why you need to dig foundations like this for greenhouses?  You could fit a whole other room underground with the depth you’ve used.”

“It helps with the ventilation and drainage,” she said.  “I’ve used a similar system on my farm in Kansas with excellent results.”

“And you’ll be producing beauty products, correct?” he said.

“That’s right.  Along with herbal teas and tinctures.”

“Funny,” he said quietly.  “I had thought that perhaps you intended to run another sort of business.”

Zelena shrugged.

“You gave me the brush-off,” she said airily.  “I’m well aware I need support if I want to follow in my mother’s footsteps, but I’m quite capable of standing on my own two feet in the field I qualified in, thank you.”

Gold pushed back from the counter.

“Well, it’s not my area,” he admitted.  “But I see no reason to refuse the alterations, providing you clean up after yourself.  Exactly how will you ensure that the site is kept clean, by the way?”

“The products are all natural,” she said.  “But you can see the waste pipes I’ve allowed for in the plans.  They’ll drain into the sewers along with everything else.”

“And you’ve cleared that with the Mayor?”

“I have.”

“Very well.”  Gold pushed the papers across to her.  “Make your alterations.  I hope your business prospers.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the papers from him with a wicked smile.  “How about a drink to celebrate?”

“I think not,” he said.  “I have a date.”

“With the waitress?”  She curled her lip.  “I’m sure she’s very - enthusiastic - but it’s hardly a match made in heaven, is it?”

Gold looked down at his hands, splayed on the counter, concentrating on the way the light gleamed on the heavy ring he wore.  If he could focus on that, perhaps he wouldn’t want to to swear at her.  By the time he glanced up again, she was grinning at him, and it only made him angrier.

“Miss French is an excellent employee,” he said quietly.  “She is intelligent, articulate, hardworking, and has a large amount of natural business acumen.  She is, in short, everything I could want in an assistant.”

Zelena looked as though she had been slapped, and he was enjoying her expression, so he continued.

“She is also warm, funny, generous, and extremely beautiful,” he went on.  “All of which makes me think I’m incredibly lucky that she chooses to spend some of her time with me.  I might add that we’re also very compatible sexually and that she makes me feel as though I’ve been reborn when she fucks me, but, well…”  He showed his teeth.  “That may be a little more information than you wanted, yes?”

Zelena’s mouth worked, her hands clenching around the plans, and he nodded to the door.

“You can get out,” he said.  “I don’t expect to see you in here unless you’re paying the rent, understood?”

Her eyes burned, fury making them flash, but he didn’t care.  She turned on her heel and stalked out, and he allowed himself a smile as he watched her leave.   _Good fucking riddance_.

* * *

He closed up shop not long after Zelena left, leaving early so that he could go home to shower and prepare for his evening with Lacey.  He had considered what he would be cooking, and he packed a box with the ingredients he would need, and a few tools that he suspected she might not possess.  He had dressed in a black suit with a dark purple shirt and midnight-blue tie, and he tucked a silk handkerchief into his pocket, eyeing himself critically in the mirror.  Despite his earlier comments to Zelena, he was well aware that his time with Lacey was limited.  She would eventually move on to someone younger or fitter or better-looking, and he couldn’t say he’d be surprised when she did.  For the moment though, he intended to enjoy what they had.  However casual she wanted to keep it.

He drove to her place, parking up outside and struggling a little with his cane in one hand and the box of ingredients balanced precariously on his other arm.  Lacey’s eyes widened when she opened the door, and she took the box from him, looking him over.

“Hey,” she said.  “You’re early, I was still studying.”

“Only ten minutes,” he said, and she shrugged.

“Every little helps, right?  Come on in, I’ll put the books away.”

He followed her up, and she shoved the box onto the kitchen counter, going to the table to close up her books and stack them at the side.  The kittens were curled in a pile on the couch, blinking at him sleepily, and he smiled at them for a moment before taking off his coat and jacket.

“I brought steak,” he called, hanging up his coat.  “Is that alright?”

“Anything you cook for me is great,” she called back, and he made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, I thought you could help,” he said.  “It’s easy, I promise.”

Lacey pulled a face.

“Okay, but if I kill us both, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said.  “Put the oven on, we’ll need it to heat up before we put the potatoes in.”

She turned to the oven, fiddling with the controls, and Gold took a bottle of wine out of his box of ingredients, holding it up.

“Glasses?” he asked, as she turned to face him, and Lacey opened a cupboard, getting out two glasses and fishing in the drawer for a corkscrew.

“Do you have an apron?” he added, and she gave him a flat look.

“Do I strike you as the kind of girl who would have an apron?” she asked.  “Maybe I keep it next to the melon baller or the packet of doilies, hmm?”

He grinned at that, and looked down at his shirt.

“I’ll just have to be careful I don’t get oil on myself, then.”

“You could always take it off,” she suggested, grinning at him.  “Nude cooking.  Could be interesting.”

“Could be dangerous,” he remarked.  “From what you tell me about your abilities I could get hot fat splashed somewhere sensitive.”

“Then I’d have to kiss it better.”

He grinned, tugging the cork from the bottle of wine.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll keep my clothes on.”

“Not for long, you won’t.”

His grin widened, and he handed her a glass of wine.

“You’d better watch it, Miss French,” he said softly.  “Talking that way could get you in trouble.”

“Good.  Bring it on.”

She winked at him, taking a drink, and he felt his heart swell.  Damn it all to hell, she was wonderful!

“So, what do I need to do?” she asked.

“You can cut the potatoes into wedges,” he said.  “You have an oven tray, right?”

“I do have _some_ things, you know,” she said dryly.  “My diet isn’t entirely made up of cereal and ramen.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  Put the tray in the oven to heat up, and we’ll make a start.”

For a while they were busy with the food preparation.  Gold had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and Lacey followed his instructions, cutting the potatoes into wedges and using her hands to coat them with olive oil and seasoning.  She spread them on the hot tray, the potatoes hissing as they went on, and shoved the tray in the oven.

“Well, that’s easy,” she said, wiping her hands.

“Usually I’d steam them for ten minutes beforehand,” he said.  “Makes them a bit fluffier on the inside, but I thought we’d keep things as simple as possible tonight.”

“Simple’s good,” she said, with a nod.

“They’ll need turning after fifteen minutes,” he added, turning back to his box of ingredients.  “You have a spatula?”

Lacey took one from the drawer and smacked his rear with it, making him jump.

“Yeah, I got one of those,” she said innocently, and he gave her a look that made her giggle.

“On with the rest of it, then.”

He made mayonnaise, a process that fascinated Lacey.  He cracked an egg into a tall plastic container, added salt and a spoonful of white wine vinegar, then poured in golden oil from a glass bottle and used a hand blender.  The mixture turned pale yellow as the egg and oil emulsified, growing thick and unctuous, and Lacey stared as he scraped it out into a glass jar.

“I’ve never seen that done before,” she said.  “It always just comes in a jar from the store.  That was so easy.”

“And now we add garlic,” he said, sticking his finger into the mayonnaise and sucking it off to check the seasoning.  “Two cloves, crushed and stirred in.  It’ll be good, trust me.”

Once Lacey had turned the potato wedges, their edges going brown and crisp, Gold put the frying pan on the heat, dropping in some oil.

“The pan needs to be hot,” he told her.  “Smoking hot.  It’s good if you add a little butter just before you put the meat in, too.  How do you like your steak?”

“Bloody as hell,” she said.  “You?”

“More of a medium rare person,” he said.  “So we’ll give mine another minute.”

The steak sizzled as it hit the pan, Gold leaning back to avoid splashes, and Lacey watched as he counted under his breath before adding the second.  The meat was turned, its underside firm and caramelised, and her mouth watered at the scent coming from it.

“Plates, please,” he said, and she ducked to get the plates, warm from the oven.

“The meat needs to rest,” he said, as he served up the steaks.  “It’ll make it more tender.  Just leave it there while we finish up.”

He made a salad, slicing tomatoes and onion and lettuce and mixing it up with oil and vinegar.  Lacey got out cutlery and refilled the wine glasses, and Gold motioned to her to take a seat as he served up the food.  The first bite of the steak made her hum in approval, the meat almost melting in her mouth, its edges crisp from the hot fat and savoury from the salt and black pepper.  The mayonnaise was pungent and delicious, the fresh garlic burning her tongue a little, and she closed her eyes as she chewed, opening them again to find him watching her and looking amused.

“Good?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Awesome.”

They ate in silence for a while, pausing to take a sip of wine now and then.  Lacey watched him eat, enjoying the way the muscles of his forearms moved as he cut into his food, and the way the light shone on his hair.  She gestured with a fork, chewing and swallowing.

“I have some interest in the small business idea,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yes?”

“Tiana would love it if you can give her somewhere to bake,” she said.  “She knows she won’t get any help from the bank to open the patisserie she wants, but she thinks if she can start small and build up, she could make it.”

“Interesting.”  He speared a piece of potato with his fork.  “Anyone else?”

Lacey giggled.

“You know Anton, that big gentle giant who has the little place with the big vegetable garden out east?” she asked.  “He’s vegetarian, and he grows all his own stuff and makes a ton of produce.  He wants to up production and sell it, and he’s already thought of a name.”

“Go on.”

“Fee-Fi-Fo-Farm,” said Lacey, and cackled, making him smile.  “I love it.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“Well, I made a start on the report you wanted,” she said.  “As of this afternoon I have eight people interested, and six more that I need to speak to.  Also those I’ve talked to would need finance, some more than others.  You’re looking at two hundred grand, easy.  Maybe three.”

“Really?” he pursed his lips, and she nodded, taking a drink.

“I haven’t run the figures yet, but I’ll do that when I write up the report.  I can get it done by Wednesday, I reckon.  Some are more of a risk than others, but I’m guessing you already know that.  I had a think about collateral, though.  Again, some are in a better place than others.”

Gold had sat back in his chair and was watching her with a small, amused smile on his face, and it made her want to blush.

“What?” she asked, and his smile widened.

“Nothing.  That’s good, Lacey.  Very good indeed.”

His praise made her want to wriggle in her seat, and she turned her attention back to her food, telling herself to get a bloody grip.

They finished their meal, and Lacey announced that she would wash the dishes, so Gold helped to dry, packing away the things he had brought into the box.

“Is the studying going well?” he asked, and she wrinkled her nose.

“I thought it was going well, and then I did one of the practice tests and kind of sucked,” she said.  “But I’ll get there.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

He topped up their wine, and Lacey sat back with a sigh, picking up her glass.

“Thanks for coming over,” she said.  “The food was great, and it’s actually nice to sit at the table and talk, you know?”

“I do.”  He took a drink, and she grinned.

“Not saying that I wasn’t hoping to do more than talk with you this evening, of course.”

“Oh, we can do that, too.”  His eyes gleamed at her above the rim of his glass.

“Good.”  She took another drink.  “How about now?  I’ll shut the cats out of the bedroom.”

“There’s dessert,” said Gold, and she shrugged.

“We can eat it later.  Maybe off each other’s naked bodies, or something.”

He chuckled.

“Very well.  After you, Miss French.”

He watched her go, hips swinging in the little skirt she was wearing, her chestnut curls bouncing, and he could feel desire for her growing, burning through him.  But there were other emotions there, other feelings.  Affection, and admiration.  Pride in how she was developing into the role he had given her, and a certain amount of smug satisfaction at proving himself right about her.  Lacey glanced over her shoulder, blue eyes fixing on his and piercing through to his soul, and he felt his heart clench.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked, and he nodded, taking a sip of wine to fortify himself before he followed her through.

The lights in the bedroom were low, just the single lamp glowing on her nightstand, and he shut the door behind him to keep out curious kittens, setting down his wine and laying his cane against her dresser.  Lacey had put down her own glass and turned to him, her breathing a little heavy, and she stepped closer, hands on his chest, warm through the thin silk.  She picked open the knot of his tie, pulling ti from around his neck, and unbuttoned it down to his navel, sliding her hands inside before rising up on her toes to kiss him.

Gold felt his arms go around her as her tongue slipped into his mouth.  She was soft and sweet, a perfect fit against his body, and he ran his hands over her slim curves, cupping her rear and squeezing.  Lacey broke the kiss with a gasp, shaking back her hair.

“The last time we did this was in the alleyway,” she said, and his hands stilled.

“Yes,” he said quietly.   _Not my finest hour.  Not for either one of us._

“It was pretty hot,” she added.  “I know we’d had a big fight, but even so.  You made me see stars, taking me hard against the wall like that.”

“Right,” he said, feeling weary.  “Is - is that what you want?”

Lacey licked her lips, her fingers curling in the silk of his shirt.

“I think - I think I’ll let you decide how we do things tonight,” she said.  “What do you want, Gold?”

He hesitated, because he wanted to please her, but he was well aware that he didn’t always understand her.

“I want to take my time,” he said eventually.  “I want to take things slow.”

She nodded, her breath hitching a little.

“Okay,” she whispered, and stretched up to kiss him again.

He lifted the tight shirt she was wearing over her head, revealing milky skin and a black lace bra cupping the mounds of her breasts.  His hands found the zipper of her skirt, and he pulled it down, letting the skirt fall.  She stepped out of it, toeing out of the soft boots she was wearing and tugging the shirt from his pants.  He let her push it from him, her hair tickling his naked chest as she bent to kiss him, and he groaned as she gently sucked a nipple in between her lips.  His hands stroked up to push through her hair, and she raised her head to gaze at him, her lips full and parted, her breath cool on his face.  He bent to kiss her, feeling her tug at the belt of his pants, tasting the sweetness of her.

The bed was just behind them, and Gold stepped backwards, pulling Lacey with him.  He sat, tugging her close and bearing her down, his tongue stroking hers before their lips parted, their breathing heavy and hot.  He kissed across her jaw to her ear and back along underneath, his lips pulling and sucking on the pale skin of her throat as he worked his way down.  She moaned as he sucked at her breast through the lace of her bra, her fingers stroking through his hair.  He pulled down the straps, exposing her breasts, taut pink nipples against the pale flesh, and Lacey moaned again as he suckled at her, tongue swirling, lips pulling.

“Take it off!” she whispered.

He slid his hands around her back to unhook the bra, drawing it off her and tossing it aside before hooking his fingers over the waistband of her tights and pulling them down her legs with her underwear.  She was fully naked, eyes fluttering closed, chest heaving, and he began to kiss the soft skin of her knees, moving in between her thighs, his hair brushing against her.  Lacey moaned as he kissed his way higher, and he could feel himself harden as he caught her scent, familiar and inviting.  He pressed a kiss to her mound, groaning in pleasure, and she sucked in a breath, letting it out in a long sigh as his tongue touched her.

He began to lick her slowly, long sweeps of his tongue against her tender flesh, and she moaned at the feel of it, her fingers twisting in his hair, her legs opening a little wider.  His tongue moved in slow circles, brushing the nub of her clit, and she arched her back, sucking air in through her lungs, gasping and writhing.  He groaned, his hands clutching at her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and her scent was all over him, on his face and in deep in his lungs, the strands of his hair sticky with her juices.  He continued to lick her with long, slow, deliberate strokes, and he could feel her body tensing, her grip tightening as she approached climax.  She came with a whimpering cry, and he licked her clean, swallowing down the taste of her pleasure, groaning at the flavour of her on his tongue.

Lacey had collapsed into the pillows with a gasp, her chest heaving, and he began kissing his way up her body, his tongue slipping into the hollow of her navel, running along the curved line of her ribs, tracing the swell of a breast.  She reached to the side as his kisses reached her neck, and he heard the rustle of a condom packet.

“Not yet,” he whispered, and slid off her to lie by her side, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek and gently turn her head towards him.

She was staring up at him, her eyes dark in the low light, her lips swollen and glistening.  He kissed her, his fingers stroking the soft skin of her cheek, and Lacey moaned a little, turning her body to press against his, her hand sliding around his waist.  Gold let his tongue touch hers, stroking gently, his fingers pushing through her hair and brushing the nape of her neck.  Lacey shivered in his arms, and he gently pushed her onto her back, sliding a hand down over her body and between her legs.  She moaned as he touched her, his fingers sliding through wet flesh, slippery with her desire, and he gently pushed a finger inside her, breaking the kiss and running his lips around to her ear.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he whispered.  “You feel every bit as good as you taste.”

She moaned again, and he pushed the finger deep, up to the knuckle, his thumb rubbing over her clit.  She gasped, arching her body, and he added another finger, her walls gripping him tight.  He kept his thrusts slow, sliding in and out, the thumb swirling, and Lacey whimpered again as he felt her stiffen.

“That’s it, my sweet,” he breathed.  “Let it come.  Come for me.”

Her lips parted, her eyes closed as her breathing quickened, and he thought how beautiful she looked, ecstatic and ethereal, her legs open to receive him, her body naked and vulnerable, his fingers glistening with her fluids as he slid them in and out.  She came with a cry, squeezing him, her body jerking, and he gently drew out his fingers as she twitched and moaned, reaching for the condom she had discarded and opening it up.

She was still moaning when he rolled to lie between her legs, and her eyes fluttered and opened, blinking up at him.  He pressed against her, aching to be inside her, and she nodded as he took himself in hand, easing his way into her, sinking deep.  He groaned at the feel of her around him, the heat from her body scalding him.  Lacey ran her hands up his shoulders, chewing her lower lip as she met his eyes, and he began to move, his thrusts long and slow, his hips circling a little to grind himself against her.  She closed her eyes with a moan, her nails digging into his skin, and he cupped her cheeks with his hands, kissing her gently as he thrust deep inside her.  Her breath was hot, sweat forming between them, the scent of her pleasure surrounding them, and he could feel his climax building, sensations rippling through him.  He pulled his mouth from hers, his breathing heavy, and pressed his forehead against hers as his pace quickened a little.

He came with a hoarse cry, thrusting into her, and Lacey let out her own cries, clenching around him, tugging at him, their bodies moving together in heat and sweat and lust.  

Gold let his head drop, trying to catch his breath, his body tingling, and Lacey stroked his hair, running her fingers down his back and making him shiver.  He pushed up on his elbows, and she swallowed hard, her eyes flicking up to meet his.  She was so beautiful he wanted to cry, and she was looking at him with an uncertain expression, as though she wasn’t sure what to say.  He tried to smile at her, but his mouth wobbled, and so he let the smile fall from his face, his emotions jagged and raw and confusing.  Lacey reached up, stroking his hair back, strands sticking to her fingers.

“Connor?” she whispered, and the sound of his name on her lips made him shiver.

“Yes?”

“That was amazing.”


	25. Streetlights Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, we left Gold and Lacey in a good place, agreeing to take things easy and being comfortable with one another. Here’s what happened next

Lacey wasn’t sure what had woken her, but her eyes flicked open in the dark of the room, her heart thumping.  A warm body was pressed against hers, an arm thrown around her and the sound of even breathing coming from behind her.  She could feel the hard pressure of him against her buttock, and it made her grin widen.

The evening had been wonderful.  After the incredible sex they had lain in silence for a while, neither one seeming to know what to say.  He had broken it by suggesting that they eat dessert, and so she had gotten out of bed and gone to fetch the chocolate mousse he had brought.  It was thick and rich, the bitter chocolate tasting clean on her tongue, the whipped cream on top laced with brandy and countered with the sharp taste of fresh raspberries buried in the mousse.  She wasn’t sure where the hell he had gotten fresh raspberries from in winter, but they tasted delicious.  They drank wine with it, finishing the bottle, and afterwards he had laid her down in the bed and kissed her into a frenzy before she rolled him onto his back and rode him hard.

They had curled up together, sticky and comfortable, and Lacey had relished the feel of his arms around her as she slipped into sleep.  She had felt warm, and safe, and content.  She had almost felt loved.

Gold shifted, letting out a sigh, and she turned in his arms, gently pushing him onto his back.  He inhaled sharply with a brief snoring noise, and she grinned as she kissed the warm, damp skin of his chest, her tongue licking the salt from him.  Her lips fastened over a nipple, sucking it into her mouth, and Gold stiffened and stretched as he woke.

“What’re you doing?” he asked sleepily.

Lacey let his nipple slip from her mouth, kissing her way down over his belly.  He gasped as she slipped her tongue into the hollow of his navel, and she wriggled, feeling the hardness of him against her breasts, his hands dropping to stroke through her hair.  She slid down between his legs, kissing lower, rubbing her face against his skin and inhaling his musky scent.  Her lips trailed over his inner thighs, and Gold let out a groan as she ran her tongue up the seam at the top of his leg, her lips running over coarse hair.  She traced the shape of his balls with her tongue, and he sucked in a breath, fingers tightening in her hair.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and she grinned, running her tongue up the length of him and making him groan.

_“Fuck!”_

“Later, maybe,” she said, and licked him again.

Gold hissed and arched his back a little, and she took him in hand, tracing the tip of her tongue around the head of his cock before taking him into her mouth.  He groaned loudly as her lips slid down over his length, and she sucked hard, cheeks hollowing.

“God, that feels amazing!” he whispered, and she wanted to grin.

She kept up a slow, steady rhythm, stroking with her hand to increase the pressure on him as she sucked.  Saliva was running down the length of his cock, her lips slippery with it, and she could taste the first hint of salt on her tongue.  She wondered what it would feel like if he came in her mouth, and decided that she wanted to find out.  Her pace quickened, her grip tightening a little, and he groaned and arched up again, his fingers pulling on her hair and dancing over her scalp.  Her lips were sliding against him, his cock thick and rigid in her mouth, and he was almost panting, his chest heaving.

Lacey glanced up, sucking hard, and he was watching her with wide, dark eyes, his lips parted and glistening.  She used the forefinger of her free hand to stroke over his balls, and his head rolled back with a groan, his eyes closing.  He was nearing his peak, his muscles tightening, his breath coming hard, and his head suddenly jerked upright, his eyes wide.

“Lacey!” he said desperately.  “I’m gonna come, sweetheart!”

She sucked harder, pumping at him with her hand, and he threw his head back with a cry of pleasure, his body arching upwards and his cock pulsing in her mouth.  Hot, salty fluid squirted over her tongue, and she swallowed it down, pulling at him with her lips, sucking every drop from him.  Gold fell back in the blankets, gasping for breath, his body jerking a little, and she let him slip from her mouth, kissing her way back up his belly and over his chest until she was looking down at him, a smug grin on her face.  Gold was breathing hard, gazing up at her wide-eyed, and he shook his head, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered.

He lifted up off the bed to kiss her, his mouth hot and hungry, and she wondered if he could taste himself on her tongue, as she could taste her own pleasure when she kissed him.  His hand twisted in her hair and he rolled, pinning her beneath him.  Lacey giggled into his mouth, pulling her lips from his and stroking his hair back from his face.

“Good way to wake up, hmm?” she said, and he grinned.

“The best way,” he said.  “And now, Miss French, I do believe it’s your turn.”

His smile turned wicked, and Lacey relaxed back with a sigh as he slipped beneath the covers to kiss his way down.

* * *

Gold found that his night with Lacey had left him in an excellent mood, and he spent Sunday getting his paperwork in order and cleaning his house.  He almost caught himself whistling at one point, and shook his head with a grin.  His good mood carried on into Monday, when Lacey announced that if he wanted to go ahead with the conversion of the warehouse, she would arrange a meeting with the townsfolk who had expressed an interest in renting a space from him.  After some initial questioning, he was content to let her get on with making the arrangements.  She seemed to know what she was doing, and it was gratifying to him that she had taken to the role of assistant with both enthusiasm and success.

Lacey left the shop at six, kissing his cheek and giving him a cheerful goodbye, and he stood there watching her walk away, dark hair bouncing around her shoulders.  His heart clenched a little as she turned, the glow of the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek as she looked up and down the street before crossing.  She was stunning, and he was painfully aware that he was in love with her, fool that he was.  Not that he’d mention it, of course.  They were in a good place, and he didn’t want to jinx it by asking for more than she was prepared to give.  He sighed, letting his head roll back a little as his hands tightened on the cane.  For now, it was enough.

“Ah, the heartfelt sigh of the besotted idiot.”

Jefferson’s drawling voice made him start, and he turned with a frown.  The younger man was leaning on the shop counter, grinning widely.  He was wearing a heavy woollen frock coat with elaborately embroidered lapels, and a purple shirt beneath a green waistcoat.  The combination made Gold’s eye twitch.

“You could have used the front door,” he said.

“Then I wouldn’t catch you mooning over your hot young assistant.”  Jefferson waggled his eyebrows.  “She looks like she’d take some keeping up with.  Probably a heart attack waiting to happen.”

“Mind your own business,” snapped Gold.  “How about telling me something more useful than your unsolicited advice on my love life?”

Jefferson sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Fine!” he drawled.  “I have the info you asked for on that Green woman.  Can’t see that she’s had any contact from her mother since she got here, but work on the farm has already begun."

“Already?”  Gold was puzzled.  “I only gave her the go-ahead last week.”

“Well, she hasn’t lost any time getting started,” said Jefferson.  “She's not using local firms, she seems to have gotten a bunch of people in from outside the area.  Lots of earth-moving equipment, and they're really moving at pace.  One of the guys told me she's paying extra for the job being completed early."

"So what's her hurry?" Gold mused, and Jefferson shrugged.

"Whatever it is, she hasn't shared it with any of the guys on site," he said.  "Just told them she'll be paying a bonus for every day they finish ahead of schedule.  She’s digging very deep foundations for these greenhouses of hers.”

“Yes.”  Gold frowned, tapping the cane handle.  “I wasn’t satisfied with her explanation about those, but I suppose I can keep an eye on her.  What else?”

“She has a guy working out there with her,” said Jefferson.  “Name of Walsh.  I put some feelers out in that bar last night, tried to see if he’d be up for a little selling of information, but he seems very loyal to her, so no luck there.”

“I trust my name didn’t come into it,” said Gold, and Jefferson spread his hands.

“Hey!  What do you take me for?”  He tugged the collar of his coat straight.  “He didn’t suspect a thing.”

“And your recce of the farm itself?”

“Piece of cake,” said Jefferson.  “I was in and out in ten minutes.  She’s got a bunch of what looks like distillation equipment.”

“If she’s making herbal tinctures that would seem reasonable.”

Jefferson pulled a face.

“I dunno, man.  I’ve seen stuff like that in drug dens and illegal stills, too.  You don’t want to end up with the farm being blown to pieces because she couldn’t control her moonshine.”

“I very much doubt she’s making knock-off vodka,” said Gold.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think she’s making herbal tea either,” said Jefferson.  “She has barrels of chemicals I’ve never heard of, tons of equipment - it just doesn’t look right, you know?”

“So what is she stashing out there?” asked Gold, and Jefferson pursed his lips.

“I’m no chemist,” he admitted.  “But I’m pretty sure it ain’t fertiliser.  I took pictures of the packing slips and some of the containers.  Maybe you can show them to someone who knows about this crap.”

“Good.  Send them to me.”

“You got it.  Anything else?”

“Not for now,” said Gold.  “But I expect I’ll have need of your services again in the future.”

“And I’ll be more than happy to service you.”

“And on that note…” said Gold dryly, gesturing to the door, and Jefferson chuckled as he bowed and swept out.

* * *

Lacey found that the month passed quickly, filled with work and study, Friday nights with Gold or the girls and Sunday morning runs with Ruby.  She and Gold seemed to have settled into a pattern of dinner twice a week either at his place or hers.  They would talk over ideas for the business, eat the excellent food he cooked and then have amazing sex.  It was casual, but comfortable, and she found herself relaxing a little more around him, turning in the mornings to nestle against his chest and feel his arms tighten around her.  The kittens had even gotten used to having him around, crying to him for food as often as they did her.  Gold brought them treats on most visits: packets of catnip or toys, and on one occasion, an elaborate tower of ledges, boxes and scratching posts for them to climb on.  He and Lacey spent an enjoyable evening assembling the thing, the kittens looking on curiously before scrambling onto the finished article.

Lacey had completed the catalogue of Gold’s antiques, and the website was up and running, business picking up day by day.  Her first sale - a Victorian tea set in white and blue - made her squeal with excitement and run around the shop.  Gold had laughed out loud at her enthusiasm, and they had packed up the tea set, wrapping each piece carefully in tissue and bubble wrap before packing it into a box for shipping.

She had also set up the site for tenants to make online payments of rent, and it proved as popular as she had imagined.  Diners at Granny’s thanked her for arranging a system that meant they didn’t have to interact with Gold any more than necessary.  She suspected that a part of him missed the look of dread on people’s faces when they opened their doors to him, but he had to admit that the system was far more efficient, and meant that he could save his energy for those tenants who were most unreliable, Moe French and Keith Nott chief among them.

She had also set up a meeting with the townsfolk that wanted to rent premises in the warehouse, which was well-attended and which involved productive, if spirited exchanges between Gold and the would-be business owners.  Tiana drove a particularly hard bargain as she pushed for a lower price on the premises she needed for her patisserie, and although Gold snapped at her, he had the little glint in his eyes that Lacey recognised as meaning he was impressed by her arguments.  Terms were agreed, and the modifications begun that would turn the draughty warehouse into separate, self-contained units with all the necessary facilities to house the small businesses.  The work had started, and the first units were due to open two weeks before Christmas.

A market and street party was to be held to celebrate the opening and the redevelopment of that area of town, the planning of which had kept Lacey awake at nights, but which she was confident would run smoothly.  Townsfolk that were not taking units but who had goods to sell had rented temporary stall space in the midst of the warehouse and along the street outside, and Lacey had booked Leroy and his friends to play their raucous blend of country and blues music, along with a hog roast and beer tent, courtesy of Granny.  She had done most of the arrangements herself, only going to Gold for clearance on whatever needed paying for, and he had watched her work herself into a frenzy with a tiny, amused smile on his face, only appearing to step in when she got too stressed to think straight.

When the planning was done and she could sit back a little and relax, he kissed her cheek and told her he was proud of her.  The compliment was genuine, delivered with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, and her breath had caught in her throat, love for him swelling in her chest and making tears prick her eyes.  After that, she held her head a little higher as she walked down the street.

* * *

Working had left her little time for anything other than study, and the date of her SATs loomed heavy on the horizon, a malevolent shadow.  She felt a little more confident than she had when she started; certainly her practice test scores were much better.  It still felt strange to get on the bus to the next town, where the nearest test centre was, clutching her books to her chest as though this would somehow transfer the knowledge they contained into her brain.  Gold had offered to drive her, but something inside her made her refuse: a streak of stubborn independence that made her want to claim any victory that came as hers and hers alone.

The day was cold, and she shivered as she hurried along the street.  It was a relief to duck into the test centre, the teenagers already there taking off their coats and looking impossibly young.  She remembered how she had felt at that age: immature and foolish and completely out of her depth.  She told herself firmly that she was a very different person now, that she had put in the work, and that she was more than capable of passing well.  It helped to calm her, and a young girl almost losing it over a broken pencil was oddly soothing.  Lacey gave the girl one of hers, receiving a grateful smile in return, and then they were led into the examination hall.  She stared at the little table containing the papers that stood between her and twenty dollars an hour, and lifted her chin.   _Showtime._

* * *

“So.”  Ruby set a glass of beer on the bar in front of her.  “How did it go?”

Lacey picked up the beer and took a slurp, enjoying the refreshing coolness.

“Not sure,” she admitted.  “When I finished I thought it had gone okay, but then I started second-guessing myself on the bus on the way back.”

“Oh, that always happens,” said Ruby, waving a dismissive hand.  “Try not to think about it, it’s done now.”

“Yeah, that’s literally no help whatsoever,” said Lacey dryly.  “I’m gonna have nightmares about that bloody math paper.”

“So have another drink,” said Leroy, sliding into the seat next to her and pulling the woollen hat from his head.  “I’m buying.”

“Wow, must be a special occasion,” remarked Ruby, with a grin, and he curled his lip at her, beard bristling.

“Go on, then,” said Lacey, nudging him.  “I’ll have a whisky to chase this beer.”

“On it,” said Ruby, turning to find the bottle.  “Same for you, Leroy?”

“I’m predictable and I don’t care,” he said, and she chuckled.

Lacey took another drink, chewing her lip anxiously as she ran over her answers to the math questions in her mind.

“Would you stop thinking about that damn paper?” growled Leroy.  “I’m sure you aced it.”

“If I didn’t I’ll bloody well kick myself,” she muttered.

“When do you get the results?” asked Ruby, turning back with two glasses of whisky.

“Twenty-first,” said Lacey.  “Which incidentally happens to be Gold’s birthday.  I’m hoping I can give him the thoughtful and unique present of having to pay me another five bucks an hour.”

“I think he’d be happy to,” said Leroy, reaching for the beer Ruby handed to him.  She shot him a look.

“When did you suddenly become Gold’s cheerleader, huh?”

“When he started showing that he can be a decent person to my friends,” he said.  “Not saying I want to kiss the guy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re his type either,” said Lacey, snickering.

"Thank God for that."  He took a long drink.

“So, are you getting him a present?” asked Ruby, and Lacey frowned.

“Guess I ought to,” she said.  “What the hell do you get the richest guy in town?  He has everything he wants.”

“There must be something,” said Ruby, and grinned wickedly.  “Maybe you could get him something sexy.”

“Like what?” said Lacey.  “A bottle of lube and a selection of vibrating sex toys?  A voucher for a night of light bondage and pegging with yours truly?”

Leroy choked, spitting beer, his eyes wide.

“Ladies, have a little pity on the guy drinking!”

Ruby giggled.

“What’s the matter, get a visual?”

Leroy glared at her.

“Well, I have _now_!”

Lacey joined in the laughter, waving a hand.

“Relax, I have an idea that won’t require any brain bleach,” she said.

“What’s that?” asked Leroy suspiciously, and Lacey grinned.

“I’m gonna cook for him.”


	26. Eyes Like Wildflowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey sat her SATs and prepared for a street party to celebrate the opening of the new small business enterprise she persuaded Gold to invest in. Here's what happened next.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

Lacey felt like tearing her hair.  The street party to celebrate the opening of the market and warehouse businesses was due to start in an hour, the hog roast wasn’t ready and the sound system had stopped working.

“Why did I ever think I could do this?” she demanded, whirling to face Gold, who was watching her with a tiny grin on his face.  “I must have been _insane_!  Why didn’t you stop me, for God’s sake?”

“Because I enjoyed watching you do an excellent job,” he replied.  “And because I knew you could do it.  And you have.”

“We have no food and no music!” she snapped.  “I half-expect the beer barrels to explode or something!”

Gold put a hand on her shoulder, and his touch was calming.

“Granny has already said the food will be ready on time,” he said gently.  “The mulled cider is ready to drink, and the beer barrels are fine.  Leroy’s fixing the sound system as we speak.  It will go well, I promise.”

She leaned against his chest with a sigh, smiling as he kissed the top of her head.

“Tiana hasn’t set up yet,” she said then.  “What if it starts and she’s not ready?”

“This thing is scheduled to last three hours,” he said dryly.  “I’m sure it won’t matter if she’s ten minutes late.  From what I remember of her cakes, she’ll sell out long before the party’s over.”

Lacey hesitated, breathing in his scent, her fingers clutching at his shirt.

“What if nobody comes?” she whispered, voicing her secret fear, and Gold chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through his body.

“Everyone will come,” he said.  “It’s not every day this town has a street party, after all.”

“I guess.”

She nuzzled his chest, and a sudden, loud buzz of feedback from the speakers made her yelp in alarm.

“There.”  Gold kissed the top of her head.  “I told you he’d fix it.”

“Okay.”  She began to breathe a little easier.  “God, I’ll be glad when this is over!”

“When it’s over, you’ll be excited and eager to tell me your next grand scheme,” he said.  “And we can have a drink and you can relax.”

“Can’t come soon enough,” she muttered.

* * *

Lacey was pleased and relieved to find that Gold was right.  What looked like the entire town descended on the street, eager to eat and drink and dance and peruse the goods on sale.  Tiana did a roaring trade with her baked goods, and Anton’s homemade preserves, chutneys and vegetable quiches sold out quickly.  Granny, Merida and Ruby ladled hot mulled cider into cardboard cups and handed out plastic glasses of beer and bread rolls filled with thick slabs of roasted meat, crispy pork rind and apple sauce.  The crowd grew boisterous as the beer barrels emptied and the tempo of the music quickened, and Lacey found herself being spun around by some of the townsfolk, laughing too much to stress about the party.  Gold watched her from the sidelines, smiling as she passed him, and she felt an odd lurch in her chest every time she met his eyes.  She told herself she was a besotted idiot, but it didn’t help.

The only thing to upset her once the event was underway was her father.  She had kept an eye out for him, wondering if he would attend, but after the party had been going an hour with no sign of him, she told herself he wasn’t going to bother.  She couldn’t work out if she was relieved or disappointed.  Deep down, she knew that a part of her wanted him to see what she could achieve, and wanted him to be proud of her.  Unlikely though that was.  At the same time, of course, she was aware that there was alcohol on offer, and drink made him mean and belligerent.  She tried to put him out of her mind; if he wanted to sit at home while the rest of the townsfolk enjoyed themselves, why should she care?

She had managed not to think about him for a full ten minutes, and was helping Merida serve drinks while Ruby and Granny ran to the diner for fresh supplies.  The music was making her want to dance again, and she tapped her feet, swinging her hips as she handed a beer to Dr Whale.  A shadow fell across her, and she turned to see Moe looking her over and curling his lip.

“So, this is what being Gold’s assistant is?” he asked, his tone snide.  “Seems to me you’re just doing what you always did.  But then I never thought he hired you for your brain.”

Lacey squared her jaw.

“I’m covering for Ruby for ten minutes, okay?”

“Once a waitress, always a waitress, right?”

“Either order something or bugger off,” said Merida sharply, and Moe scowled at her.

“Mind your own business!” he snapped.  “She’s _my_ daughter and it’s me that has to deal with all the rumours!”

“I don’t give a shit about any rumours!” said Lacey, putting her hands on her hips.  “They’re probably all bollocks anyway!”

“Right, because he really wanted an assistant with zero experience who barely graduated high school,” said Moe nastily.  “I’m sure there was no one better qualified.”

“Why don’t you take this beer and choke on it?” asked Merida sweetly, holding up a drink.  Moe ignored her.

“I organised this whole thing!” protested Lacey, throwing up her arms.  “I had the idea and set it up and all Gold did was pay for shit!   _That’s_ what it means to be his assistant!  It means he trusts me to do a good job!  It means - it means he values me!”

“That man never valued anyone in his life beyond what he can get out of them!” said Moe, with a sneer.  “And if you think he trusts you, you’re even stupider than you look.  Trust you to warm his bed, maybe.  Wouldn’t be surprised to find out whatever he makes you do is itemised on your paycheck.”

“You’re disgusting,” she said witheringly.  “I’m not taking any lessons on propriety from a sad old drunk!”

“Better a drunk than a whore.”

“Oh really?” snapped Lacey, fists on hips.  “How about we stop with the snide bloody comments and your gross innuendos, huh?  Because you know what..?”

She turned on her heel and stalked over to where Gold was watching them with narrowed eyes.  Lacey stepped up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat and tugged him close for a long, passionate kiss.  Gold’s eyes were very wide when she let him go and stepped back, and she nodded decisively and turned back to Moe.  The townsfolk had gone very quiet around them.

“You’re right, I _am_ sleeping with him!” she shouted.  “In fact, I’d go so far as to say we’re actually dating, okay?  He’s not bloody paying me, it’s not a bloody sordid deal, we’re hanging out and having amazing sex, and you can stick your gross opinions right up your fat arse!”

She stalked off, shaking with anger, Merida’s whoop of support following her.  She felt as though she was about to _burst_.  Moe shouted something after her, no doubt uncomplimentary, but she ignored him, striding away through the stalls.  She was seething with rage, but tears were pricking her eyes as well.  Why did he have to be so awful all the time, and why did she let him get to her?  She stalked up and down, the music from the stage washing over her, and a pair of shining black shoes entered her vision, the gleaming tip of a cane between them.  She raised her eyes to meet Gold’s, her mouth working a little, but he was smiling at her.

“Want me to evict him and run him out of town?” he offered.  “I’m fairly certain I can come up with some reason besides being a terrible father.”

“No,” she sighed.  “Don’t bother.  I should just - I should just ignore him but he’s so _vile_ sometimes.  He’s the only family I’ve got and it - it _sucks_!”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” said Gold sincerely.  “Don’t let it spoil the evening for you, alright?”

“Could be worse, I guess,” she said gloomily.  “Not sure how, but…”

She shrugged, shifting from foot to foot, and there was silence for a moment.  Gold raised an eyebrow, flexing his fingers on the cane handle.

“So,” he said.  “We’re dating?”

“Uh…”  She chewed her lip.  “Yeah, sorry about that.  I guess - I guess it kind of slipped out because I was so mad.”  Uncertainty gnawed at her.  “Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said, and pursed his lips, nodding slowly.  “I think we’re dating.”

She felt a thump in her chest, her heart swelling.

“Does this mean I can kiss you in public?” he asked then, still with that tiny grin.

“I - guess so.”

“Excellent.”

Gold stepped forward, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin, and lowered his mouth to hers, his hair brushing her face, his mouth soft and warm and sweet.  She slid her hands around his waist and up his back over the thick wool of his overcoat, and he gently pulled his lips free, pressing his brow to hers.

“This whole event has been a great success,” he said softly.  “I’m proud of you, Lacey.  You were amazing.”

She felt her lower lip wobble a little, emotions rising up within her, and so she kissed him again, tugging him close as the music surrounded them and the scents of roasted pork and mulled cider drifted on the breeze.

* * *

The morning of the twenty-first of December found Lacey waking early, heart thumping as she realised that she would be getting her SAT results.  She was oddly relieved that she had the added pressure of having decided to cook for Gold for his birthday; at least that would take her mind off things.  She threw back the bedclothes, disturbing the kittens, and stroked heads and scratched chins as they gave her tiny mews of greeting.

“Breakfast,” she announced.  “We’ve got a big day ahead.”

She had taken the day off work, with Gold’s agreement, and had arranged to go over to Granny’s once the breakfast rush had died down.  Granny had offered to help her out when she overheard Lacey telling Ruby what she was planning, and she was grateful.  She supposed she could have asked Tiana, but the baking business was still in its infancy, and she suspected Tiana was too busy to help.  At least Granny had a little more time on her hands.

She went to purchase the ingredients she thought she would need, carrying the heavy bags of groceries to the diner just as the clock eased past nine.  Most of the breakfast customers had gone, and Merida was clearing tables.  She called a cheerful greeting, and Lacey grinned at her as she wound around abandoned chairs to head into the kitchens.

“Put everything on there!” said Granny, gesturing at a clean table top.  “We’ll start with the cake.”

“I can’t believe you’re baking Gold a birthday cake,” said Ruby, sidling up and handing her an apron.  “I’ve never seen you bake anything.”

“Yeah, which is why I asked for help,” said Lacey, tying the apron around herself.  “If this is a disaster I’m getting store-bought and you’re both sworn to secrecy, okay?”

“You’ll be fine,” said Granny briskly.  “Let’s start by mixing the butter and sugar.”

Lacey took the large mixing bowl she handed over, setting it on the table, and flexed her shoulders.  She could do this.

* * *

Several hours later, she was doubting her own words.  The cake batter had tasted good - she had gotten enough on her face and in her hair to know this - and it was spooned into matching tins to bake.  It came out of the oven looking moist and light, rich with cocoa and scented with vanilla.  She had almost dropped one of the cakes when getting it onto the cooling rack, and had turned the air blue with curses before Granny could calm her down.  This was achieved by distracting her with the preparation of the other things she intended to cook.  Lacey ground the spices for the roast chicken pieces in a pestle and mortar under Granny’s watchful eye as the cake cooled.

“Okay, now toss your chicken pieces in it,” said Granny.  “Put them in the bag and shake ‘em around, get them covered.  You can leave them in the bag until it’s time to put them in the oven.”

“You wrote down the instructions, right?” said Lacey anxiously.

“I put them in your bag,” said Granny patiently, for the third time.  “Just follow ‘em and you’ll be fine.  This is just a one-pot meal.  Nothing fancy, but it’ll taste good.  Now, let’s look at that cake.”

Half an hour later, Lacey stood looking down at the cake.  Chocolate frosting laced with dark rum coated the top and sides, and the words _Happy Birthday_ in very wobbly writing were scrawled across it in melted white chocolate

“It was nice of that local school of blind kids to come help ice this thing,” she remarked dryly.

“It’s rustic,” said Ruby helpfully.

“It’s a mess, is what it is.”

“It doesn’t look so bad,” said Ruby.  “At least you got the right sentiment.  No spelling mistakes.”

“It looks like I sat on it,” said Lacey gloomily.

Ruby drew a finger around the edge of the bowl of frosting and stuck it in her mouth.

“It tastes good, though,” she said.  “Don’t worry, I’m sure Gold’ll love it.  Just slap some cream on a piece and smear it over his naked chest.  He’ll be too distracted to notice that it looks like roadkill.”

“Ruby!” snapped Granny, and the two girls giggled.

“Well, you two have saved my arse and probably Gold’s stomach,” said Lacey.  “Thanks for the help.  Let me clean this place up and I’ll get out of your hair.”

* * *

Ruby helped her carry everything to her place, and Lacey opened the door with the cake in a box under her arm.  She ignored the mailbox, dreading what might be inside it, and Ruby followed her up the stairs to the apartment, setting her box of prepared food on the table.

“Let me know how it goes,” she said.  “If you start panicking and drop the chicken all over the floor, just come over to the diner and I’ll give you a lasagne or something.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Lacey, with a confidence she didn’t feel.  “Give me a good luck hug.”

Ruby grinned and pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tight.

“Come over tomorrow,” she said.  “I’m getting off work early, we should have a drink.”

“It’s a date.”  Lacey kissed her cheek.

When Ruby had gone, she bent to pick up Hagrid, who was winding around her ankles.  He purred loudly as she rubbed her face against his soft fur.

“Okay then,” she said.  “I guess I’m about as prepared as I can be on the food front.  Time to do the rest.”

She rushed to the mailbox, drawing out the one piece of mail that sat in there.  A single envelope, containing what could be the keys to her future.  Once opened, and the contents read multiple times, she spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning the apartment and pampering herself, before remembering at five-thirty that she needed to turn on the oven.  Hobbling into the kitchen on her heels, pink foam toe separators holding painted toes apart, she turned dials and swore under her breath.

“Not a good start,” she said to the cats.  “I hope he wants to chill out and have a drink first.”

Gold wasn’t due to come over until six-thirty, and once the polish on her toes had dried she pulled on new underwear and a dark blue dress, winding her hair up on top of her head.  Granny had given her an apron from the diner, and she tied it around herself, pouring herself a glass of white wine from the bottle in the fridge.  She then browned the chicken pieces in a pan before putting them into a dish with the vegetables: cut potatoes, onions and pumpkin, and a bulb of garlic that had been sliced in half, all mixed with olive oil and seasoning.  Chewing her lip, she read Granny’s instructions anxiously, and added half a glass of wine and some herbs to the dish before putting it in the oven.

“Okay,” she said to the kittens, who had been watching her every move.  “Okay, I think I can just leave that now.  You think he’ll like it?  I hope he does.  I hope I don’t bloody send him to hospital or something.”

The buzzer went, making her jerk, and she hissed under her breath, taking another gulp of wine and setting down the glass before trotting to the door.

Gold was waiting on the other side, looking good enough to eat in a red shirt with a tie in a darker shade, and a black suit.  He smiled as she opened the door, looking her up and down.

“Am I early?” he asked, and she glanced down at herself, swearing under her breath before tearing off the apron.

“No, you’re right on time,” she said.  “Unless you want to eat right away, in which case come back in half an hour.”

“I think I’ll chance it,” he said, and stepped inside.  “I brought wine.”

She was going to tell him he shouldn’t have, and that she had wine, but then she remembered that the wine he bought was expensive, and tasted way better than the stuff she could afford, and she’d rather drink his.  So she said nothing.

“Dinner’ll be half an hour or so,” she said, as she led him up the stairs.  “Two courses was stressing me out, so that’s all you’re getting.”

“I’m sure it’ll be enough,” he said, sounding amused.

She let him into the apartment, and the kittens scampered over to have their ears scratched.  Gold picked Minerva up, and she butted her head against his nose, making him grin.

“It smells delicious,” he remarked, and Lacey chewed her lip.

“Well, hopefully it'll taste okay,” she said.  “I - I made you a cake, too.”

Gold’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face.

“You made me a cake?”

“Don’t get excited,” she warned, opening the box to show him.  “It looks like someone punched it.”

He put down the kitten, running his eyes over the cake she had made, and the grin on his face made him look as though he’d been presented with something incredible.

“You made this?” he said, and she shifted uncomfortably.

“Like I said, it’s not exactly the prettiest thing.”

“It’s wonderful,” he said.  “And it smells glorious.  I can’t wait to eat it.”

She wanted to wriggle with pleasure, and set the cake aside to hide her blush.

“Anyway, I didn’t just want to poison you,” she said.  “I did get you an actual present, too.”

Gold watched her trot from the room, heading for the bedroom.  He couldn’t seem to stop grinning.  She had cooked - it smelled like some sort of chicken dish - and she had actually made him a cake.  No one had done that since he had lived with his aunts as a child.  He didn’t care what it tasted like; he was prepared to eat the entire thing if it made her happy.  He glanced up as she hurried back in and handed him a small box, wrapped in shiny black paper and tied with gold ribbon.  Gold took it, pulling open the bow and tearing off the paper to reveal a deep blue velvet box.  He opened it up, and the light glinted off a gold tie pin, its length engraved with a swirling pattern of tiny roses and thorns.

“Do you like it?”  Lacey was watching him anxiously, her eyes as blue as cornflowers.  “It - it kind of reminded me of us.  Nice soft bits and - and prickly bits.”

Gold felt a smile spread across his face.

“Prickly bits indeed,” he remarked.  “It’s beautiful, Lacey.  Almost as beautiful as you.”

She blushed, but looked pleased, and his smile widened.

“Will you put it on me?” he asked.

Her face brightened, and she reached out to take the pin from him as they stood up.  Gold stood still as she slipped the pin across his tie, clipping it in place and sliding her hands over his chest.

“Perfect,” she said, glancing up at him, and he bent his head to kiss her.

Lacey let herself melt into the kiss, her hands sliding up to sink into his hair, his tongue pushing into her mouth.  Her eyes closed, and she concentrated on the feel of his body against hers, the warmth of him, the taste of him in her mouth.  A surge of desire went through her, and she broke the kiss, a little breathless.  A thin strand of saliva bridged the gap of their lips, snapping back against his as they caught their breath, and she met his eyes, staring into their dark depths.

“Happy birthday, Connor,” she whispered.

“This is already the best birthday I’ve had in many years,” he said quietly.  “I’m not sure how it could get better.”

“Well.”  She put her hands on his chest, pushing back out of his arms.  “I - I did have one other thing.”

She went to her bag, rummaging in it for the envelope she had opened earlier, and handed it to him.  Gold took it with a curious look, and then a slanting grin, his eyes gleaming at her.  Long fingers reached inside and drew out the piece of paper that she had read ten times or more, and his eyes scanned it, then scanned it again.  He broke into a broad smile, gold tooth glinting in the light, and she felt herself blush.

“This is wonderful,” he said.  “Lacey, 1480?  I’m so proud of you.”

“I can hardly believe it myself,” she said.  “I had to read it like ten times, just to be sure.”

“Well, this calls for a double celebration,” he said, handing the test score back to her.  “i mentioned wine, didn’t I?”

He opened the wine, and they sat at the kitchen table, Lacey still flushed as she took a glass from him.  The chicken dish was smelling delicious, and she hoped and prayed that it would taste as good as Granny had assured her.  Gold set down the bottle and picked up his glass.

“To the future,” he said, and she clinked her glass against his.

They both drank, and he watched her as he swallowed, his eyes dark and calculating.

“Now,” he said.  “You promised me that you’d think about college.”

Lacey sat back with a sigh.

“I still can’t afford to go, remember?”

“There are scholarships,” he said patiently.  “Why don’t you at least apply, see what happens?”

She shot him a wry look.

“You trying to get rid of me?”

“On the contrary.”  He took another drink.  “I’m hoping you’ll study Business and come back to me to show me what you’ve learned.”

“I - I think I would like that,” she admitted.  “But - but we’ve only just started!  And - and there are so many other things I wanted to do with the warehouse!”

“And you can still do those things,” he said gently, reaching out to take her hand.  “If you went to college, it wouldn’t be until after the summer.  You could come back every holiday and work with me again.”

“You seriously think you could run that website on your own without my help?” she asked sceptically, and he grinned.

“Not at all, but we could find a way around it,” he said.

Lacey pursed her lips, thinking.

“What about getting some of the high school kids to help out for a few weeks at a time?” she suggested.

“That might work,” he admitted.  “If they were carefully vetted, of course.”

“Well, I could do that, no problem,” she said.  “And it would give them some decent work experience, and they might learn that you’re not such a bad guy after all.”

“You take that back,” he said sternly, and she giggled.  Gold straightened up, his grin turning self-satisfied.

“Sounds to me like you’re convinced,” he said, and she gave him a flat look.

“Maybe,” she said.  “Maybe I’ll apply just to shut you up.”

“Oh, there are more pleasant ways you could do that.”

“And we’ll explore some of them later,” she said primly.  “ _After_ we eat dinner.”


	27. No Reason to Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey admitted that she and Gold were dating! A big step for her! Here's what happened next

The bedclothes shifted, Lacey’’s head bursting out of the blankets, her cheeks flushed, and she pushed herself up on her elbows with a grin.

“Well,” she said.  “Guess a happy birthday was had by all.”

Gold sighed contentedly, arching his back a little and folding his arms behind his head.

“I’m full,” he remarked.  “I think you weren’t kidding when you called that cake Death by Frosting.”

“You ate three pieces!” she chided, swatting his shoulder.  “You didn’t have to make yourself sick just to prove it wasn’t terrible.”

“It was delicious!” he protested. “A little _too_ delicious, if you must know.  My waistline may never be the same again.”

Lacey giggled, and he kissed her before pushing up on his elbows.

“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked, and he smiled.

“I had the best birthday.”

“Good.”

She bent to kiss him, and he turned them, pushing her down into the blankets, his mouth hot and soft and sweet, his body firm against hers, and she wanted to freeze time, to lie there sheltered from the world, wrapped in his arms and breathing him in and pretending they could stay that way forever.

Gold broke the kiss, pulling up a little, his hair brushing her cheeks.  Lacey reached up to touch it, winding strands around her fingers and pushing it back.  He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, heavy and full with his love for her, and his breath caught in his throat as she flicked her eyes up to meet his.

“Will you stay tonight?” she whispered.

_God, I’d stay forever.  I’d stay forever if you’d let me._

“I’d like that,” he said.

* * *

Christmas passed quickly for Lacey in a blur of light and sound, good food and nights spent lying in Gold’s arms, a contented, tipsy mess.  After some surprise among the townsfolk at the pawnbroker dating his young assistant, and some snide comments whispered behind hands, they had ceased to be a topic of gossip amongst everyone except the worst of the _Rabbit Hole_ crowd.  She had not spoken to her father since the night of the street party, and although she bought him a Christmas present, dropped onto the counter of the flower shop while he was serving a customer, she was still angry with him.  He didn’t give her a present, and didn’t thank her for his, and so she hadn’t been back to the shop.

After some consideration, she had decided that it couldn’t hurt to apply to college, and so she had talked over the options with Gold, eventually applying to colleges in Boston and New York.  Gold had suggested others, too, further away, but she didn’t want to move too far.  She told him that she was planning to return in the holidays, as he had suggested, and that if he wanted to get rid of her entirely, he would need to try harder.  He had grinned at that, a ghost of a smile, and told her he was pleased to hear it.  She tried to manage her expectations by telling herself that she didn’t expect to be successful, but if she was completely honest there was a tiny spark deep within, the first faint glow of self-belief.  Besides, applying had shut him up.

She put in applications for funding at the same time, surprised at the amount of financial aid available.  It appeared that some colleges were willing to offer generous packages to eligible students, and as she definitely couldn’t afford to pay for it herself, it was a no-brainer.  She told herself she didn’t expect to be successful in that, either.  It was therefore something of a surprise when she received responses from three of the colleges, asking her to attend for an interview.

“What the hell am I supposed to do about this?” she demanded, waving the letters at Gold and making him blink.  “I can’t go to a bloody interview!”

“Why not?”

“Because…”  She paced back and forth rapidly.  “Because they’ll take one look at me and say ‘no bloody way’, that’s why!”

“Of course they won’t,” he said soothingly.  “But if you’re concerned about that, I can buy you a new outfit.”

Lacey considered it for a moment, and then shook her head.

“No,” she said decidedly.  “If they can’t accept me as I am, fuck them!”

“Well, quite,” he said.  “In that case, I don’t know why you’re worried.”

“Because I’ll - I’ll probably swear or - or make an idiot of myself!”

“I’m sure they’ve heard curse words before,” he said dryly.  “They deal with students facing important deadlines, after all.”

“Gold…”

He sighed and laid his cane across the top of the counter, putting his hands on her shoulders and fixing her with a calm stare.

“Lacey,” he said gently.  “You can do this.  They wouldn’t ask you to go if they weren’t interested in having you study there.”

“I guess…”

“I believe in you,” he went on.  “I have every faith that you will impress them, and they’ll make you an offer.”

“If they don’t offer me funding at the same time, I’m still screwed.”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said.  “In the meantime, why don’t you start thinking about what questions they might ask you?”

“Like which of the Bennet sisters is my favourite and if I were a bloody tree, what kind would I be?”

Gold looked as though he was trying to hold in his amusement with some difficulty.

“I think they may be more interested in what you want to study and why you want to study with them, but we can’t rule out a curve ball.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this…”

“You’ll be amazing,” he said firmly, and kissed her forehead.  “Now, let’s talk logistics.  You need to get to New York University, Columbia, and Boston University.  I could drive you down to New York, and—”

“No,” she said, before he could finish, and Gold pushed back, reaching for his cane to steady himself.

“No?”

“I want to do it myself,” she said, not sure if he would understand.  “I - I _have_ to do it myself, does that make sense?”

“Not to me,” he said, and shrugged.  “But I suppose it doesn’t have to.  How will you get there, then?”

“I’ll take the bus,” she said.  “I can book accommodation in New York for a couple of nights, do the interviews, and then take the bus to Boston.”

“Then I guess you’ll be wanting to take some leave,” he said, with a tiny grin, and she took a deep breath.

“Not only that,” she said.  “I - I need to ask you a favour…”

* * *

“You got _Gold_ to look after the cats?”  Ruby snickered, reaching for her Cosmopolitan.  “What if they crap on his antique _chaise longue_ or whatever the hell he has?”

“He’s not taking them to the house,” said Lacey, taking a slurp of her Mojito.  “He’s having them in the shop.  I’m gonna take the cat tree over there so they have plenty of stuff to play with.  He spends most of his time there anyway, so they can just hang out in the back room.”

“Why didn’t you just give him the keys to your place?” asked Leroy, wiping beer foam from his beard.

“Because I don’t want them being on their own all day,” she said.  “It was bad enough when I had to work every hour.  They need some company, the little buggers.  Besides, they like him.  Severus sits on his lap more often than he does mine.”

“Probably recognises a fellow Slytherin,” said Ruby, and squeaked as Lacey shoved her.

“Oh come on, Gold’s a Ravenclaw,” she said.  “Or possibly a Hufflepuff, I haven’t decided.”

“Ravenclaw, definitely,” agreed Ruby.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” grumbled Leroy, and Lacey waved a hand.

“Never mind about that, anyway,” she said.  “You guys are supposed to be helping me not freak out about these interviews.  What if the interviewers are jerks?  It says on the letters that they’ll be members of the faculty, so that means they could be teaching me.”

“Picture ‘em naked,” said Ruby, with a shrug.

“Doesn’t help, Rubes.”

“Okay, so picture _yourself_ naked.”

Lacey shoved her again, and Ruby giggled into her glass.

“Look, just remember why you applied,” said Leroy, setting down his beer glass.  “You got a kickass score on that test, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m like four years older than the other students,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said patiently.  “You’ve done stuff with your life.  You have experience, and a work ethic.  You helped set up those businesses, did a lot for the community...”

“That’s true,” put in Ruby.  “You can describe it like an urban regeneration kind of thing.”

“We’re in Storybrooke,” said Lacey flatly.

“Okay, so maybe not _urban_ , but you still regenerated that part of town.”

“That was Gold, not me.”

“It was Gold’s money,” said Ruby patiently.  “It was your idea.”

“I guess.”  Lacey took a drink.  “I guess we’ll have to see what they ask me.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Ruby.  “Sure you don’t want me to come with you?  The two of us, in New York City?  Could be fun, that’s all I’m saying.”

Lacey hesitated, tempted by the offer, but knowing she had something else to do while she was there, and unsure whether she wanted to divulge it at this stage.

“No,” she said eventually.  “I need to concentrate on this, get it out of the way.  If I get accepted and decide to go, you guys are more than welcome to come and stay.”

“Can’t say fairer than that,” said Ruby, and took a slurp of her drink.  “So, what does Gold say about it?  He pleased?”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, it seems,” said Lacey dryly.  “He even offered to drive me down there.”

“He wants you to do well,” said Leroy.  “It’s not like he’s trying to run you out of town.”

Lacey wriggled in her seat.

“It was his idea in the first place, not mine,” she said.

“Oh my God…”  Ruby rolled her eyes.  “Have you two nerds not admitted you’re fucking head over heels yet?  What the hell is wrong with you?”

“We only just started dating last month!” protested Lacey.

“Officially, maybe,” said Leroy.  “We all know you’ve been seeing each other way longer.  And we all know you’re in love with him, so stop being an ass and just tell him, before I do.”

“Don’t you dare!” snapped Lacey, and he sighed, burying his nose in his beer.

“Seriously, Lace, this is getting ridiculous,” said Ruby flatly.  “We know you love him.  We know _he_ loves _you_ , so what’s the problem?”

“He’s never told me that,” she said defensively.

“Yeah, and you’ve never told him either,” said Leroy.  “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Just tell him, for the love of God,” sighed Ruby, and Lacey leaned on the table, palms pressed flat.

“Okay, so let’s say I tell him,” she said.  “And - and let’s say he doesn’t feel the same way?  Or - or he tells me that I’m leaving in September for college, and he doesn’t see it working out?  I can’t do that, you guys!  I can’t just pull out my heart and lay it before him and let it be crushed!”

“I just don’t think he’d do that,” said Leroy, and she said back with a sigh.

“Yeah, well, I’m not taking the risk,” she said.  “Things have been good.  Better than good.  I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“Things would be even better with mutual declarations of love,” said Ruby.  “Proposals of marriage, discussion of future happiness and babies…”

“Ruby…”

“Fine,” sighed Ruby.  “Just promise me you’ll think about it.  His response might surprise you.”

“Just - just let me concentrate on one thing at a time,” said Lacey, picking up her drink.  “I’m too busy panicking about these bloody interviews to think about my love life.”

Leroy and Ruby shared another look, and she took a long drink before setting down her glass.

“Now,” she said.  “Ask me why I want to study business.”

* * *

The bell above the shop tinkled, and Gold walked through from the back room, raising a brow as he saw Lacey carry a large cardboard box inside.  Plaintive mews were coming from it.

“Here comes trouble,” he remarked.

“This should keep ‘em out of your hair,” said Ruby, who pushed through the doorway with one end of the cat tree in her hands.  The other end was being carried by Leroy, who stumbled over the threshold and frowned at it.

“In the back room,” said Gold, holding the curtain back.

The cat tree was placed in one corner, and Lacey set down the box before straightening up and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said.  “I think it would be good for them to have some company.”

“As long as they don’t eat anything they shouldn’t, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he said.

“I’ll get the litter box and the food,” announced Ruby, and ducked out again.

There was a scrabbling noise from the box, and a black and white head poked out as Hagrid took a look around.  Lacey was chewing her lip anxiously, and Gold reached out to touch her, cupping her cheek with a hand.

“They’ll be fine,” he said gently.  “And you - you’ll be amazing.  i can feel it.”

She sent him a wobbly smile, and then stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him.  It felt nice to be hugged, and he held her close, kissing the top of her head as it nestled against his chest.  Ruby sauntered in with the litter box, setting it down in a corner and putting the bag of dried food on the workbench with their bowls.

“Thanks, Rubes,” said Lacey.

“No problem.  Your bus leaves in like ten minutes, by the way.”

“I’m ready, I just need to grab my bag.”

“Will you call me when you get there?” asked Gold.

“I will,” she promised, and pulled back to look up at him.  “I’ll call when I get to the hotel, okay?”

He kissed her, and she melted into him a little, her hands sliding up his shoulders and into his hair.

“Quit face-sucking or you’ll miss your bus,” called Ruby, and Lacey pulled back with a sigh.

“Bye,” she whispered, and he watched her go, still tasting her on his lips.

The kittens had all climbed out of the box and were sniffing their way along the floor, tails twitching.  Gold grounded his cane, flexing his fingers, and they watched him curiously.

“Right,” he said sternly, glancing between three sets of green eyes.  “Let me tell you how this is going to work.  You are to stay in this room and play with _your_ things, understand?  You are not to pass the curtain and play with _my_ things.”

The cats put their heads to the side, watching him.

“You are to use the litter box in the corner,” he added.  “If I find any presents left anywhere else there will be consequences.”

Minerva reached out to paw his shoelace, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“Just - don’t eat the merchandise,” he said.  “And try not to get under my feet.”

* * *

The kittens were surprisingly well-behaved, only knocking a few things off the shelves and mostly keeping to the back room.  Gold found that he enjoyed having them around, although they took an interest in whatever he was doing, so he found it difficult to clean the mechanism of an old clock without one or more of the cats wanting to touch it with a paw.  After an hour or so of getting in the way, Severus curled up on his lap and promptly went to sleep, and he could carry on with his cleaning in peace.  Until the shop’s bell rang, announcing a visitor.

When he saw who it was, he wished he had pretended to be out.  Miss Green sauntered towards him with a predatory grin on her face that made him want to sigh, and dropped her bag by the counter before leaning on it with folded arms.

“May I help you?” he asked, in his most neutral tone.

“I heard your assistant was out of town for a few days,” she said.  “So, I thought I’d come and keep you company.”

“Company is something I rarely seek,” he said.  “If there’s anything you need to speak to me about on a professional basis, I’m all ears.  Otherwise, I’m rather busy this afternoon.”

“Actually, there was something,” she said.  “I’ve seen someone hanging around the farm on occasion.  A tall man, dark hair.  Wears rather unconventional clothes.  Seems to disappear whenever I go to confront him.”

“And this concerns me how?”

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and he spotted Minerva, poking her head into Zelena’s open bag.  He supposed he should really do something about that.

“I thought you knew everything that goes on in this town,” she said.  “I need his name.”

“Then I suggest you ask him.”

“I would, if I could pin him down.”

Minerva had climbed into the bag and was wriggling around.  He spied another of the kittens sneaking past, and wanted to sigh.

“Well, I’m afraid your description is rather too vague for me to identify him,” he said.  “Perhaps next time you see him, you could take a picture?”

Zelena’s mouth flattened.

“Thanks for the lack of help,” she said dryly.

“I’m not in the business of tracking people down,” he said.  “I suggest you speak to the sheriff if you’re concerned about this man.”

A scent entered his nose, unpleasant and familiar, and he wondered if he dared to look down.  Zelena’s nose twitched.

“What on earth is that smell?”

“Ah,” he said.  “I’m looking after my girlfriend’s kittens.  It smells as though one of them has used the litter box.”

She pushed back with a curl of her lip.

“I’m allergic to cats.”

“Well, there are three of them here.  Perhaps you should leave before you get hives, or something.”

Her eyes widened suddenly.  She let out a shriek, kicking out with a foot, and Severus was launched across the room.  Minerva jumped out of the bag to run after him, and Gold hurried to pick him up, scowling at Zelena.

“How much of a terrible person do you have to be to kick a bloody kitten?”

“That fucking thing bit me!” she shouted, and he petted Severus, who climbed up to his shoulder and hissed at Zelena.

“Well, you must have startled him,” said Gold.  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

She glared at him, snatching up her bag.

“I can see I’m not welcome here,” she said.  “I’ll just drive back to the farm and—”

Her eyes bulged as she reached into the bag, and Gold felt a smile steal across his face.  Zelena drew out her hand, the fingers covered in something dark brown and stinking.

“Well, what do you know?” he said cheerfully.  “It seems they haven’t quite gotten the hang of the litter box after all.”

Zelena let out a blood-curdling shriek and ran from the shop, and Gold began chuckling as the bell tinkled to signal her exit.  He scratched Severus under the chin, making the kitten purr contentedly.

“I can’t wait to tell your mother about this.”

* * *

Lacey decided that she liked New York, even though its busy streets were somewhat alarming after the peace of Storybrooke.  The hotel room she was staying in was little more than a box room with an en-suite, but it was clean, and she managed to find her way to the two universities without too much trouble.  She wasn’t sure how the interviews had gone, but given that the professors at Columbia had spent most of their time trying to look down her shirt, she wasn’t sure she wanted to study there anyway.  Her bus to Boston was due to leave at four, which left her time to carry out another mission.  One that she had been planning since she first showed an interest in New York as a potential college destination.

She turned onto the street she needed, old brownstones on either side, and counted the numbers in her head until she reached Tallahassee Building.  Hesitating, she checked the address again before trotting up the steps and pushing open the door.  An ancient elevator took her up to the third floor, and she made her way along a dimly-lit corridor to apartment 307.  Lacey hesitated again, but raised her fist and knocked on the door.  There was a moment of silence, but then a scuffling noise and the rattle of a chain.  The door opened, and a young man of around thirty looked out, running a hand through dark hair.  He had a handsome face, with deep brown eyes that looked all too familiar, and Lacey pursed her lips.   _Found you._

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.  “I’m guessing you’re Bailey Gold, right?”


	28. Where You Don't Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey left Gold babysitting the cats while she travelled to New York for university interviews. And she just so happened to drop in on the address she had for Bailey Gold. Here's what happened next.

Upon hearing the name Bailey Gold fall from her mouth, the man’s eyes widened momentarily, and he straightened up, his face suddenly blank.

“Sorry,” he said.  “No one by that name here.”

He made to push the door shut, and Lacey slapped a hand against it.

“Please, just hear me out,” she said.  “Ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“I’m telling you, there’s no Bailey Gold here,” he said firmly, and made to shut the door again.

“Neal?”

A woman appeared, around his age, blonde hair bouncing in waves around her shoulders.

“What’s up?” she asked, eyeing Lacey curiously.

“Wrong address,” muttered the man.  “She’s looking for someone called Gold.”

He shot the woman a meaningful look, and Lacey rolled her eyes.

“His name’s Neal Cassidy,” said the woman sharply.  “Sorry.  Guess you had a wasted journey.”

She made to shut the door, but Lacey had stepped forward.

“Come on, mate, I know it’s you,” she insisted.  “You look too much like your dad for it not to be.”

The man’s eyes widened, in something that looked almost like fear.

“He’s here?” he asked, his voice growing louder.  “You - you _brought_ him here?”

“No.”  Lacey settled back on her heels, folding her arms.  “He has no idea I’m even here.  Now we’ve established I’m in the right place, d’you mind if I come in?  I have a bus to catch in an hour.”

A sound started up in the apartment behind them, a baby crying, and the blonde woman sighed.

“I’ll get him,” she said.  “Neal, just let her in and find out what she wants, would you?”

Neal frowned, but shrugged, stepping back and holding open the door.

The apartment was small, but neat, with a couch opposite a TV mounted on the wall, and a compact kitchen area with a breakfast bar and two stools.  A crib stood against one wall, and the woman was bouncing a baby on her shoulder, shushing him as his cries faded to whimpers.

“What’s his name?” asked Lacey, and the woman smiled.

“Henry,” she said.  “He’s nine months.  Not learned to sleep through the night yet.  Keeps us on our toes.”

“I bet.”

The baby grumbled a little, and the woman transferred him to her other shoulder.

“I’m Emma,” she said.  “You?”

“Lacey.”  She looked between them.  “You guys married?”

“Not yet,” said Emma, in a dry, somewhat amused tone, that made Lacey suspect the matter was a bone of contention.  “He wasn’t kidding, by the way.  There’s no one called Bailey Gold here.  Not anymore.”

“Changed your name, huh?”  Lacey nodded, pursing her lips.  “I get it.”

“Look, who are you?” asked Neal.  “How the hell did you find me, and how do you know my father?”

“Uh - we’re friends, I guess,” said Lacey, a little awkwardly.

Neal blinked, and ran a hand through his hair again.

“Friends?” he said, looking confused.  “Are you - like - his girlfriend?”

“I guess,” she said, after a slight pause.  “We’re - we’ve been hanging out.  Kind of dating.  He cooks me food and I drink his wine and we badmouth everyone else in town.”

Emma chuckled quietly.

“I mean, he’s funny and sweet, and the sex is fucking _awesome_ , but it’s not like I’m your stepmother, okay?” she went on, wishing she could stop talking.  “I just - we’re dating.  And sleeping together.  A lot.”

“Okay, never mind about that,” said Neal hastily, holding up a hand.  “How did you know where to find me?”

“Your dad keeps writing to you, and you keep sending the letters back,” said Lacey.  “I probably shouldn’t have taken a picture of the address, but I figured it might come in handy one day.”

“He hasn’t written for a while,” said Emma.  “I don’t think he even knows about Henry.”

“Yeah, and that’s the way it’s gonna stay,” muttered Neal, running a hand through his hair.

“But he never wanted to leave you!” insisted Lacey, and Neal snorted.

“Weird.  Tell that to the kids’ home I spent four years in.  Didn’t see him turning up to take me away from that.”

“He went to jail!” protested Lacey, and Neal blinked.

“He told you about that?”

“I came across him on the fourth of October, steaming drunk,” she said.  “That's your birthday, right?  He told me it was an anniversary.  I thought maybe he’d lost his wife or something.  Didn't realise it was the anniversary of going inside."

"Pretty much the crappiest birthday ever," remarked Neal.  "I can still remember my mother telling me he'd left and wasn't coming back.  Didn't know it was because he was in jail until years later."

Lacey stared.  So his mother had lied to him.  To protect him, or for some other reason?  Perhaps she was the one who had hidden the letters Gold had sent.  At least at first.

"Anyway, I put him to bed to sleep it off, and that was kind of the start of us being friends," she said.  "Eventually he told me what had happened.  Some of it, anyway.  Losing you was the biggest regret of his life.”

Neal was eyeing her cautiously.

“So how come he never got in touch?” he asked.  “Okay, I know he was in prison, but it’s not like he fell off the face of the earth.”

“He said he sent cards and money and letters the whole time he was in there,” said Lacey.  “Never heard a thing back.”

Emma made a sound under her breath, but then covered it by kissing Henry’s head.  She was watching them both, her eyes shrewd, and Lacey wondered what she was thinking.

“It’s not like he ever wanted me anyway,” muttered Neal.

“Says who?” asked Lacey, perplexed.  “Seriously, he’s desperate to talk to you again.”

“My mother said he never wanted me,” said Neal.  “Course, neither did she.  I guess they were more alike than she thought.”

He had begun to pace, arms folded across his chest, and Lacey sighed.

“Yeah, I heard what happened with your mother,” she said.  “That sucks, man.”

“Oh, she came back when I was thirteen or so,” he said, surprising her.  “Not for long, don’t get me wrong, but she said she was sorry.  Wanted to get to know me, all that crap.  Lasted all of like eight months before she was off again with that guy on his stupid boat.  Told me she couldn’t be tied down, that she was a free spirit.”

“Ugh,” said Lacey, with feeling, and Emma shot her a look of approval.

“Yeah, well.”  Neal ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable.  “I can’t - I can’t go through that again, I just can’t.”

Lacey sighed.

“Look, he really, really wants to make things up with you,” she said.  “I don’t know what your mother said to you about him, I can only tell you what he told me.  That he loved you before you were even born and he wanted the best for you.”

“The best would have been having a father who was there for me, not - not sitting in a damn cell!” said Neal, sounding bitter.  She supposed he had every right to be.

“And he’s full of regret over that,” she insisted.  “He just wants another chance, that’s all.  He tortures himself thinking about what might have happened to you.”

“No ‘might’ about it,” muttered Neal.  “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“Well, you’re right, I never spent any time in the system,” admitted Lacey.  “But I get what it is to have a crappy home life.  My dad’s a hopeless drunk and kinda free with his fists.  Plus he’s fucking gross at times.  I moved out at seventeen.  Your dad kind of helped me out.  Gave me a place at a low rent, let me pay the deposit in instalments.”

“Is that - is that when you started dating?” asked Neal, looking uncomfortable, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, God no!  That was only like a couple of months ago.  We were friends before I persuaded him to sleep with me.”  

Emma chuckled as Neal winced, and Lacey closed her eyes, wishing that words wouldn’t just fall out of her mouth.

“Look, all I’m saying is, he’s a good guy,” she said.

"He went to jail," said Neal.  "Pretty sure it wasn't for unpaid parking tickets.  I don't want anyone mixed up in that scene around my son."

"Yeah, well, far as I know he's kept his nose clean since he came out," said Lacey.  "He rents out property and provides finance to small businesses in our town.  You couldn't get more respectable."

Neal looked disbelieving, and she sighed.

“I wouldn’t be here applying to college if it wasn’t for him," she added.  "Before I knew him, I was working minimum wage in a diner, with no future.  He gave me a new job and encouraged me to sit the SATs, and - and here I am.”

Neal ran his hands over his face, looking weary.

“Look, I get that you have feelings for him,” he said.  “And you seem like a good person.  Maybe he has changed, who knows?  Maybe he does regret what happened.  But that doesn’t _change_ what happened, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Lacey quietly.  “You can never go back, I get that.”

“The moment Henry was born I promised myself I’d never let him go through what I went through,” said Neal, his dark eyes fixed on hers, an almost plaintive expression in them, as though he were begging her to understand.  “My kid will always know he comes first.  I may have cut my father out of my life, but it was after he cut me out of his, not before."

"But he didn't!" insisted Lacey, and Neal shook his head firmly.

"That's what it looked like from where I was standing," he said.  "I don’t speak to my mother anymore, and I don’t want Henry having any other uncertainty in his life.  Me and Emma - well, we’re both kids of the system.  We look out for each other.   _They’re_  my family, do you understand?”

Lacey sighed.

“Well, I can see I’m not getting anywhere,” she said regretfully.  “Please, just think about it, that’s all I ask.  If you change your mind, he runs a pawnshop in Storybrooke, Maine.”

“Will you tell him you saw me?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Oh, believe me, this is gonna be our secret,” she said dryly.  “Having experienced it that one time, I can tell you that he’s a pain in the arse when he’s drunk.  I'm already dreading next October fourth.”

Emma grinned, and covered it by kissing Henry’s head again.  Neal nodded, still looking uncomfortable.

“Nice meeting you, I guess,” he said, and she nodded.

“Yeah, you too.  Take care of yourselves, okay?”

She felt despondent as she made her way downstairs and out of the building into the cold air.  It seemed that there was too much anger and hurt there for a tear-soaked reunion to be taking place any time soon.  She could understand it, to an extent; Neal felt abandoned and betrayed, and the actions of his mother had only made that worse.  Lacey scowled at the thought of the woman.   _Even more selfish and useless than Dad, by the sound of it.  Still, you tried.  All you can do_.

She stomped off, heading in the direction of the subway.  A trip to Boston awaited, one further interview, and then she could head back to Storybrooke, and fall into Gold’s arms.  It was almost a surprise to realise that she couldn’t wait.

* * *

Gold was used to being on his own, but he found that Lacey being out of town affected him more than he had anticipated.  He missed the energy that she brought in her wake, the light that seemed to fill his shop whenever she was around, the way she would chatter with him about the antiques or about books.  He missed her smile and the gleam in her eyes, and the way she tasted when he kissed her.  It helped having the kittens there, as this gave him something to talk to, even though most of the things he said were admonitions not to climb on something or to leave things alone.  Still, they were adorable, and soothing to pet, and he wondered why he hadn’t previously thought of getting a cat to give him some company.

As the evening of the third day rolled around, he decided that he couldn’t face another night at home with nothing but his own gloomy company, and so he headed to Granny’s.  It was reasonably busy, with a few diners still eating and several patrons seated at the bar, Leroy Pitman among them.  He gave Gold a cautious nod of greeting.

“Mr Gold,” said Ruby, grinning at him.  “What can I get you?”

“Whisky,” he said.  “Best you have.”

“Sure thing.”  She turned to grasp a bottle, and poured him a measure.  Dark eyes flicked up to meet his as she set it before him.  “Missing Lacey?”

“Have you heard from her?” he asked, ignoring the question itself, and she shrugged.

“I know she made it to Boston.  She’s freaking out about the interview tomorrow, but I think I managed to calm her down.”

“Oh, so she called you, then,” he said, trying not to sound bitter, and failing.  “I haven’t heard from her in two days, and then all she wanted to do was ask about the cats.”

Ruby rolled her eyes.

“She’ll probably call you later, you big dork.  She’s been busy.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, reaching for the whisky.  “I’m sure she has much better things to do than talk to me.”

“Oh my God,” muttered Leroy, and Gold’s eyes narrowed.

“Is there a problem, Mr Pitman?”

“Nope,” said Leroy moodily.  “Just wondering how two people that are supposed to be clever can be so damn stupid.”

“My private life is none of your business,” said Gold, in a cold voice.

“It’s my business when it’s all she talks about when we go out,” muttered Leroy.

“Same,” said Ruby flatly.  “You two really are idiots, you know that?”

Gold blinked, unused to having even one of the town’s inhabitants speak to him in that manner, much less two.

“Please explain to me why I shouldn’t give each of you a surprise rent increase for this insolence?”

“Oh, please!”  Ruby waved a hand.  “Don’t even bother with the fake menace, we know full well Lacey wouldn’t stand for it.”

Gold couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that, so he took a drink of whisky to give him some time.

“You should tell her how you feel,” added Ruby.  “I mean how you _really_ feel, not some lame ‘I’m fond of you’ crap or whatever the hell else you come up with.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice,” he said stiffly.

“God, I wish you would,” muttered Leroy, and Ruby sighed.

“She’s really into you,” she said.  “I mean, I’m not saying I get it.  Far as I can tell you’re too old, too skinny, too - weird—”

“I’m almost certain there’s a point to this,” he said dryly.

“My point is, she likes you,” said Ruby.  “More than likes you.”

“Well, I know that she likes me!” he snapped.  “I’m not completely blind!”

Ruby and Leroy shared a look, and he felt his irritation grow.  Leroy raised his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head in exasperation, and Gold felt his temper snap.

“Was there something you wanted to say?” he asked waspishly, and Leroy took a gulp of his beer, setting down his glass with a clunk and wiping foam from his beard before turning on his stool.

“I can’t stand this anymore!” he complained.  “Would you two morons just tell each other how you feel?  It’s driving me crazy!  I have to listen to her mooning over you every time we go out and telling me you’d never be interested in her long term and if I have to listen to _one more tale_ of how great you are in the sack I’m gonna drown myself!  Just - just tell her you love her, for God’s sake!”

Gold drank the rest of his whisky, banging the glass down on the bar and reaching into his jacket for his wallet, drawing out a twenty-dollar bill.

“Keep the change,” he said sourly, dropping it on the bar, and stalked out, hearing a hiss of frustration from Ruby.

He walked quickly, breath pluming in the cold air, bristling with indignation.   _Damn them and their bloody interference!  Who the hell do they think they are?_ A buzzing from his phone made him stop, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out the flip phone and opening it up.

“Hey,” said Lacey, when he answered.  “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said tersely, feeling a lurch in his chest at the sound of her voice.  “You?”

“Well, I made it to Boston,” she said.  “The hotel’s nothing to write home about, but I guess it doesn’t matter.  Kind of freaking out about tomorrow.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said soothingly.  “I have every faith that you’ll impress them.”

She grumbled something, as if to say that was more than she felt.

“How are the cats?”

“Getting under my feet, in the nicest way,” he said.  “I think they’ll be glad to have you back, though.”

“Yeah, well, I should be back tomorrow evening,” she said.  “You want to go and get something to eat?”

“I’ll cook,” he said immediately.  “I’m - I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“Yeah, me too.”  There was a pause.  “You sure you’re okay?  You sound like you’re pissed about something.”

 _I love you.  I love you.  I love you._ Gold swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice sounding strangely hollow in his ears.  “Call me when you know what time you’ll be getting in, and I’ll pick you up.  And good luck for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”  Another pause.  “Bye then, I guess.”

_God, I love you so much!_

“Bye,” he whispered, and there was a click at the other end.

He closed the phone with a sigh, slipping it back into his pocket.  Ruby and Leroy were right.  He was a fucking moron.

* * *

Lacey tapped her toes on the floor a little nervously, hands resting on her knees. Boston University was large, and the waiting area she had been directed to smelt of old books.  Dozens of them were stacked on shelves behind the chair on which she was perched, but she was too nervous to look at the titles.  There was a solid wooden door off to her left, through which she could the muted sounds of voices.  It would soon be her turn to walk through it and speak to the faculty members set to interview her, and she wanted to chew her lip with anxiety.  The sound of footsteps came from down the corridor, and she looked around as a dark-haired boy in his late teens entered, clad in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie and clutching a leather briefcase.  A man followed him, big and balding, in a dark grey suit.  The boy’s father, Lacey suspected.  A woman clutched his arm, thin and bronzed with honey-coloured hair, thick gold chains around her throat and wrists and a multitude of rings on her fingers.

“Remember to tell them about being chair of the Debating Society,” she said.

“Yes, Mom,” said the boy, looking bored.

“And be sure to mention your uncle by name,” said his father.  “Just slip it into the conversation.”

“You know the sort of questions they’ll be asking,” added his mother.  “It’ll be just like we practiced.”

“Try not to sound as though you’re reading off a script, though.”  The father rubbed his chin.  “Maybe we should have insisted on those acting lessons, Marla.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Lacey shifted position slightly, and they seemed to see her for the first time, a girl in a very short skirt and a translucent red shirt with black flowers, her hair tied up.  The father glanced over her, his gaze lingering on her legs, and the mother curled her lip.  Lacey gazed at her steadily until she looked away and kissed her son on both cheeks, rubbing off the pale lipstick afterwards.

“We’ll call back in an hour,” she said.  “Then we’ll go for ice cream, okay?”

“Great,” said the boy tonelessly.  Lacey felt sorry for him.

The parents bustled off, and the boy sank into one of the chairs with a sigh.

“Hey,” said Lacey.  “I guess you’re after me, huh?  All the waiting around’s pretty nerve-racking, am I right?”

He glanced up, and shrugged lazily.

“I’m a shoe-in anyway,” he said.  “My uncle’s friends with the Dean and a major donor.  Don’t even know why I bothered coming.”

“Oh.”

Well, that would make things easier for him.  It shouldn’t, of course, but inequality was everywhere, so she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised.  He opened up his bag to take out an expensive-looking laptop, and ran an eye over her.

“You’re wearing _that_?” was all he said.

Lacey glared at him, but he had opened up his laptop, and so she sat back in her chair and folded her arms, wishing she had gotten a decent outfit, like Gold had offered to buy.  Too late now.  She glanced at the heavy wooden door to her left again, and caught the muffled sound of raised voices.  Well, one voice, anyway.  After a moment the handle rattled and the door was pulled open and a girl rushed out with tear-stained cheeks, her lip trembling as she almost sprinted for the door.  Lacey shared a glance with the boy opposite, who was grinning.

“I guess some people can’t handle the pressure,” he said smugly.

“This is a waste of bloody time!” came a snappish male voice from inside the room.  “If I have to listen to one more bland, boring clone who’s been coached by Mr and Mrs Pushy, I’m gonna stab myself with your letter opener!  Do you have any idea how busy I am, and you want me to waste my afternoon with this shite?”

The accent, similar to Gold’s own, made Lacey’s ears prick up, but then there was a woman’s voice, smooth and calming.

“Only two more, I promise,” she said.  “Call the next.”

“Lacey French!” barked the voice, and Lacey gazed at the half-open door with trepidation, before raising her chin and getting to her feet.

Heart thumping hard, she pushed open the door and stepped forwards as boldly as she could, pretending it was Friday night at  _The Rabbit Hole_ and she needed to get to the bar.  The door closed behind her with a doleful _thunk_ , and she glanced around.  The room was cool, the light a little dim due to the thick clouds outside, and there were two people sitting behind the heavy wooden desk in front of the window.  The woman was very elegant, with blonde hair teased into a forties style and pinned in place.  She had full lips and high cheekbones, and was dressed in an immaculate dove-grey suit.  The man next to her was slouching a little in his chair, looking decidedly scruffy next to his companion, with brown hair falling around his face, silver-rimmed glasses and a week’s worth of stubble.  He was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt, drumming his fingers on the desk impatiently.

“Take a seat, please, Miss French,” said the woman.  “I’m Professor Mallory Drake, and this is Professor Nicholas Rush.  I trust your journey here wasn’t too bad.”

Professor Rush rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat, looking for all the world like he wanted to start complaining again, and Lacey took a seat.

“Um - it was fine,” she said, and pulled the chair forwards a little.  The seat was very hard.

“Right, let’s get this over with,” said Professor Rush impatiently, and snatched up the paper in front of him, adjusting his glasses.  “Lacey Isabelle French, twenty-two years old, from Storybrooke, Maine.  Combined SAT score of 1480, expressing an interest in studying Business.  So far, so unremarkable.”  He looked over the top of his glasses at her.  “How is it that you’re applying to college at twenty-two?  Little late, aren’t you?”

Lacey opened and closed her mouth, still trying to process being called unremarkable.

“Um - well, I had other stuff going on when I was in high school, and…”

“And you couldn’t be arsed to put the work in?” he interrupted.  “Or was it simply lack of direction?”

“What made you decide to apply to Boston now, Miss French?” asked Professor Drake smoothly, and Lacey stopped glaring at Rush and turned to her.

“I wasn’t going to,” she admitted.  “I never thought I’d get the chance to go to college, but I made some changes in my life, and a - a friend suggested that I think about it.  Then when I took the SATs, and I got - well, I thought it was a good score, I didn’t realise it was _unremarkable_ \- I thought I’d give it a shot.  This college has a great Business program, and I liked what I read about the science options, so it was my first choice.”

“Dr Rush teaches a number of those options,” said Professor Drake.  “In case you wanted to talk over the module content.”

“Can we stay on track here?” asked Rush, sounding irritated.  “There are ten more inane questions on this bloody list, not counting anything else I might want to ask.”

Professor Drake looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with great difficulty.

“Why don’t you take the next one, then?”

Rush huffed as he glared at the paperwork in his hand, and glanced at Lacey, his eyes flicking over her and his lip curling slightly.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say your mother didn’t dress you,” he said, under his breath.  Lacey felt her jaw clench.

“Nah, she died when I was eight,” she said loudly, making Professor Drake flinch a little.  She could feel her anger growing.

“My dad turned to drink and started smacking me around,” she said, in the same offhand tone.  “And then he tried to pimp me out to our landlord when I was sixteen.  I moved out pretty quickly after that.  You know, all that time I should have been planning to go to college and taking the SATs?  Been kind of working my arse off to keep a roof over my head and food in the kitchen, so it hasn’t left a lot of time for following the latest fashions.”

Professor Drake winced.

“Miss French, I’m sure Professor Rush didn’t mean to imply…”

“Yes he did,” said Lacey, glowering at Rush.  “The fact that I’ve been supporting myself for the past five years also means I haven’t much time for that extracurricular activities bollocks you all seem to care about so much.”

“It says here you’ve set up and now run a commercial website for your employer,” said Rush mildly, holding up a piece of paper which she recognised as her application.  He seemed amused by her rudeness, and that only made her angrier.

“Yeah, that’s my job,” she said bluntly.  “He runs an antique shop, but wasn’t selling anything in the small town we’re in, so I suggested Ebay, and he asked me to set it up.  We’re turning over about ten grand a week at the moment, but it’s early days.”

“It also says that you were instrumental in organising the regeneration of a derelict building in your town, and running a small business finance initiative,” added Professor Drake.

“Well, it wasn’t just me,” she said.  “My boss had the building, I just had the ideas, and he talked them over with me and let me run with it.”

“But you carried out market research and produced costings and undertook a risk analysis?” she pressed.

“I - guess,” said Lacey.  “No sense in doing it unless we could make money, right?”

Rush was tapping his pen against the papers in front of him, watching her.

“Tell me what motivates you, Miss French,” he said, and Lacey shrugged.

“Spite, I guess,” she said, and Rush’s mouth pulled upwards in one corner.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

Lacey huffed air through her lips.

“Well, when you look like I do, people tend to form opinions on your worth,” she said.  “Kinda like you did, right?  They all assume I’m a brainless nympho with no future.  So I like proving that I can take care of myself and that I’m not stupid.  I worked my arse off to get that SAT score and I don’t care who knows it.”

His mouth pulled up a little further, almost a smile.

“It’s a good score, no doubt about that,” said Professor Drake.

“It’s a reasonable score,” amended Rush.  “Not exactly spectacular.”

“Wow, you really are a glass half-empty kind of guy, huh?” remarked Lacey, folding her arms, and he gave her that half-smile again.

“I like to see more from my students than a test score, that’s all.”

“So look at my application,” she said bluntly.  “I have business experience.”

“And you think this is enough to get you through the door, is that it?”

“I have no idea,” she said.  “I applied to you guys.  Didn’t expect to get anything but polite refusals.  Guess I dragged my ass all the way here for an impolite one.”

Rush’s mouth twisted, as though he was amused and trying not to be, and Lacey sighed.

“Okay, look, you’re right,” she said.  “I don’t belong here.  I don’t have a bloody uncle who’s a donor and whose name I just have to drop to get my ass accepted.  I don’t have parents who coached me on how to answer these questions and how to sell myself.  I left home at seventeen and worked minimum wage jobs, and no one in town thought I’d ever amount to anything, least of all me.”

She licked her lips, an image of Gold flashing into her head, the gleam in his eyes and the tiny smirk he had when she had done something to please him.

“And then someone,” she went on, “just one person, actually saw something in me and gave me a bloody chance.  Because of that, I made some changes in my life.  Because of that, I applied here.  All I’m asking for is another chance, because if you give me it, I’ll work my ass off, I swear it.”

The two professors shared a glance, their expression unreadable, and Lacey sighed again.  This was even worse than she had expected.


	29. I'll Be Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Lacey went to Boston and New York for college interviews, leaving Gold looking after the kittens. Here’s what happened with these two dorks when Lacey got back to Storybrooke. I’m writing a surprising amount of fluff recently and it must stop :)

Gold took the cats back to his place when he closed up shop for the day, with Severus riding on his shoulder as he drove along, and the other two in the passenger seat.  He had heard from Lacey briefly, to tell him that her bus got in at seven, and he wanted to at least make a start on dinner before he went to collect her.  Once the cats were settled in their basket in the kitchen, bowls out and litter box in the corner, he began preparing the ingredients for their meal.  He had decided to make pasta with mushroom sauce, and so he finely chopped shallots, sliced mushrooms and poured some water onto dried porcini to let them soak.  He then mixed garlic and herbs with butter and olive oil, spooning the mixture onto cut pieces of crusty bread and wrapping them up in a foil parcel ready to go into the oven.  

Looking at the clock, he saw that Lacey’s bus would be arriving very soon, so he put on his jacket and overcoat and sent the kittens a stern look.

“No embarrassing or revolting incidents before your mother gets here,” he said firmly.  The kittens ignored him, and carried on grooming themselves.

The night air was bitterly cold, and he shivered a little as he got back into the Cadillac, the cold sending twinges of agony through his leg.  It was approaching seven, and he pulled up near the bus stop, getting out and standing with the cane planted firmly, ears and eyes waiting for the slightest hint that she was coming.  He felt almost nervous, a fluttering deep in his belly, and he told himself he was being ridiculous.  She had been away for three days, it wasn’t as though she had been gone weeks.  It definitely wasn’t as though she would have met someone else in the few days she had spent out of Storybrooke, and even if she had, there was precious little he could do about it.  He bit the inside of his cheeks, the sharp pain reminding him to stop being a fucking idiot.

The bus turned into the street, and his heart thumped as he craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of her.  There was a flash of chestnut hair as it drew to a halt with a squeak and hiss of brakes, and he waited, gloved fingers tapping on the handle of the cane.  Lacey was the only passenger to alight, and his face broke into a smile as she trotted down the steps and turned towards him.  She smiled back, genuine pleasure in her eyes, and almost ran to meet him, throwing her arms around him.  Her perfume filled his nose as he hugged her close, and he felt love for her rise up and spill over. _I should tell her.  I should tell her now._

“Thought I’d _never_ get here,” she sighed, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “How are you?  Been waiting long?”

“A couple of minutes, that’s all.”  He pulled back, looking her over.  “You look - well, you look beautiful.”

“I’m starving,” she announced.  “Did you say something about cooking for me?”

Gold grinned.  “I started making dinner, it just needs finishing off.  Here, let me take your bag.”

“It’s cool, I got it.”

She shouldered her backpack, taking his arm as he led her back to the car.

“How are the cats?”

“Delightful and very naughty,” he said.  “I’ll tell you all about what they’ve been up to when we get back to the house.”

Lacey was intrigued at that, but said nothing, throwing her bag into the back of the car when he opened up the door.  The short journey was made in silence, and she gave a sigh of relief as they entered Gold’s warm house.  She shrugged off her coat, and he took it, hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Please,” she sighed.  “Long bloody day.”

“Go and sit down, then, I’ll bring it through.”

She wandered through to the lounge, and heard a _prrp_ from the couch.  Three pairs of eyes watched her from where the kittens were curled on a cushion, and Lacey put her hands on her hips.

“Make yourselves at home, why don’t you?” she said, and Hagrid stood up, arched his back and yawned.

She went over to pet the kittens, scratching ears and heads and picking them up one by one to cuddle them.  Purrs and gentle headbutts made her feel much better, and the sound of Gold’s cane on the wooden floor made her look around.  She put down the cats, reaching for the glass of wine he held out.  His eyes crinkled as he smiled, the light glinting gold in their depths, and her stomach clenched.   _God, he’s beautiful.  Why did I never notice before?  So fucking beautiful._

“I’m making dinner,” he said.  “It shouldn’t take too long, maybe twenty minutes or so.  Join me whenever you’re ready.”

Gold turned back to the kitchen, picking up his own glass of wine from the counter and taking a sip as he turned back to the piles of prepared ingredients.  Water was on to boil for the pasta, and the garlic bread was placed in the oven in its foil parcel.  The chopped shallots went into a pan with garlic, olive oil and a little butter, and he cooked them until they were translucent and glistening before adding the sliced mushrooms, chopped fresh thyme and ground black pepper.  Lacey’s footsteps sounded behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to where she leaned on the door frame.

“Smells delicious,” she said.

“It’s just pasta.”  He added salt to the pan of water, followed by thick ribbons of tagliatelle.  “Did you eat well while you were away?”

“Well, I ate in diners,” she said.  “It was good.  Couldn’t find a burger to rival Granny’s, though.”

He smiled at that, and nodded to the table.

“Take a seat.”

He heard her pull out a chair, the legs scraping on the floor as she did so, and he stirred the mushrooms, adding tiny chopped pieces of porcini along with the water they had soaked in.  The pan hissed, and he stirred with a wooden spoon, taking a little of the pasta water and adding it while he kept an eye on the timings.  When the mushrooms had cooked to his satisfaction, he tugged the cork from a bottle of brandy, adding a generous glug and sending a wonderful heady scent into the air.

“Trying to get me drunk?” remarked Lacey.  “You totally don’t have to, I’m gonna jump you anyway.”

He grinned at that.

“The alcohol will cook off, it’s just for flavour.”

“Oh.”  She sounded disappointed, and his grin widened.

He opened the oven door, taking out the garlic bread and opening its foil parcel to expose crisp-crusted bread with soft insides golden with butter and studded with chopped herbs.  Lacey sniffed at the air as he set it on a dish on the table and went to the fridge for the cream.  He stirred a generous amount into the mushrooms, the sauce turning creamy-grey as he stirred and tasted it.

“I think we’re done,” he said, and turned off the pasta, draining it and stirring it into the mushroom sauce, coating the ribbons of pasta with the sauce as it thickened a little in the pan.  Lacey watched as he dished up.

“That smells _so_ good.”

It tasted good, too, when he grated on fresh Parmesan and ground a little more pepper.  The mushroom sauce was creamy and a little sweet from the Parmesan, the touch of fresh thyme lifting the flavour, and the brandy added a warm richness to it.  Lacey made noises of pleasure as she wound strands around her fork and speared a piece of mushroom, and Gold watched her with a little amusement.

“So,” he said, taking a sip of wine.  “Tell me how it went.”

She shrugged, chewing and swallowing.

“Hard to say,” she admitted.  “I think the guys at Columbia were more interested than those at New York, but then it could just have been that they were more impressed with my cleavage than my application.”

Gold winced, and she nodded resignedly.

“As for Boston…”  She laid down her fork and covered her face with her hands for a moment, sighing heavily before reappearing to take a large swallow of wine.  “Let’s just say I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory.”

“I’m sure you did well,” he said.

“If shouting at one of the professors is doing well, then yeah.”

“You shouted at them?”

“Oh, the arsehole deserved it,” she said dismissively, reaching for a piece of garlic bread.  “He was looking down his bloody nose at me and I’ve had a lifetime of that, thanks.  And - and when I was rude he seemed to think it was _funny_ , so that just made me madder.”

Gold grinned at that.

“Well, perhaps he enjoys your inner fire as much as I do.”

“Won’t get me in, though, will it?” she said despondently, tearing the piece of bread in half and using a piece to mop up some sauce.  She popped the bread into her mouth, butter making her lips shine.

“I guess we’ll find out,” said Gold.  “When do you get a response?”

“I don’t know.”  She covered her face with her hands again.  “God, I meant to find out!  Too busy yelling at that Scottish wanker!”

“Makes a change for ‘that Scottish wanker’ not to be me,” he said dryly, and she giggled, peeping out at him from between her fingers.

“Come on!  You haven’t been a wanker for ages!”

“Perhaps I should remedy that.”

He winked at her, taking a drink, and she began eating again, an amused glint in her eyes.

“How were the kittens?” she asked then, and Gold sat back with a broad grin.

“Oh, they excelled themselves,” he said.  “Miss Green came into the shop, and they took what you might call an intense dislike to her.”

Lacey snorted.  “Good!  What did they do?”

“Well, Severus bit her leg and Minerva crapped in her designer handbag,” he said, and she burst out laughing, eyes wide.

“Oh my God!” she giggled.  “I hope you gave them special treats.”

“They have enough catnip to keep them permanently stoned, I think,” he said, with a grin, and she giggled again, winding pasta around her fork.

“They’re the best cats ever, right?”

“They seem to have made themselves at home, certainly,” he said, and she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as she chewed.  Gold tore off another piece of bread, wiping up the mushroom sauce.

“Did you do anything exciting while I was away?” she asked, and he gave her a flat look.

“The most exciting thing that happened to me was going to the diner for a shot of whisky,” he said dryly, electing not to mention that Ruby and Leroy had called him a moron.

“Well, you’re definitely getting lucky tonight,” she said.  “So there’s that.”

She was grinning at him, and he wanted to kiss her, to reach across the table and cup her face and taste how sweet she was.   _Tell her, you idiot.  Tell her you love her._

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head.  “You look a little…”

“What?” he asked, and she shook her head, picking up her glass and taking a drink.

“I don’t know.  Like you have bad news and you’re not sure how to give it.  Nothing else happened, did it?  I’m not gonna find that my apartment burned down?”

Gold shook his head, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“No,” he managed.  “Nothing happened.”

“Good.”  She gestured at him with her fork.  “Eat up, Gold.  You still have to take me to bed and make me scream.”

* * *

Some time later, Lacey sighed in pleasure, her body humming from his touch, and Gold bent his head to kiss up her throat, his body pressing down on hers and both of them flushed and breathless.  Gold pushed up on his elbows, the dim light catching on his cheekbones and the length of his nose, and she smiled up at him, feeling warm and sated and wonderfully happy.

“I missed you, Lacey,” he whispered.  “I’m glad you’re back.”

She ran her hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip through her fingers, and smiled.

“Me too.”

_Tell him you love him, you fucking idiot!_

Her mind screamed at her, but the words caught in her throat before she could speak, burning her.  Fear of rejection held her tongue.  What if he didn’t feel the same?  What if he gave her a polite smile and thanked her and told her he wasn’t quite in the same place?  She wasn’t sure she could take it, and she knew that if that was his reaction, she would have to leave.  She would have to dress and collect the cats and go, and she wanted very much to stay in bed with him, wrapped up in the sheets with his body warming hers.  Better to say nothing at all, even if it made her a coward.  Better to wait for the cold light of day if she was going to make a fool of herself over the man.

* * *

It was pleasant to wake in his arms, warm and sleepy, and Lacey burrowed down a little further in the sheets, trying to ignore the light pressing against her closed eyes.  Gold tightened his grip, kissing the back of her head.

“Coffee?” he murmured.

“Please,” she said sleepily, and he pulled away from her, throwing back the covers.

Lacey rolled onto her back with a sigh, tugging the blankets up to her chin.  She didn’t want to go.  She didn’t want to pack up the kittens and their toys and leave his home.  But they would be opening the shop soon, and she would have orders to process and she needed to discuss the next online auction with him.  She ran her hands over her face, trying to force herself to sit up.  His bed was too bloody comfortable, that was the problem.

She folded her arms behind her head and lay there contemplating on what she should do about admitting how she felt.  It had seemed sensible to wait until morning, but now that morning was here she was nervous again.  Perhaps she could tell him at work.  Just before lunch, so she could run off and bang her head against the bathroom wall at Granny’s if she needed to.  God, she was losing it!

“Let’s just do a half-day today,” said Gold, when they were dressed.  “We can leave the kittens here and come back for lunch.”

_That’s goodbye to my ‘tell him before lunch’ idea, then.  Bugger it, I’ll have to tell him when we get to work.  Then I can run to Granny’s if things get weird._

“Are we having a post-lunch snuggle?” she asked, and he sent her a wicked grin.

“A case could be made.”

_Maybe after lunch, then.  When we’re in bed.  Yes._

“Sounds good to me.”  She zipped her boots.  “Admit it, you’ve just gotten used to having the cats around, right?”

“I’ve gotten used to a lot of things,” he said enigmatically, and held up her coat.

It had snowed in the night, and the air was cold, fine flakes still drifting down to catch in their hair as they walked along.  Lacey shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her coat, wishing she had brought gloves, and Gold seemed to notice her shiver.

“How about breakfast at Granny’s?” he suggested.  “You could get more coffee, and that French toast you like so much.”

“You mean the French toast _you_ like so much,” she said, sending him a flat look.  “Last time you ate half of it.  You can bloody well get your own this time.”

“You know it doesn’t have calories if I steal it from your plate,” he said, with a grin.

“I think you could stand to eat a little more, you know,” she said.

“Then you won’t mind donating some of your French toast to my plate.”

“Screw that, I’m ordering you two lots,” she said.

“And are you also funding the gym membership I’ll need to work it off?”

“Oh, I can think of a lot of really fun ways to work it off for free,” she said, winking at him, and he burst out laughing.

“Anyway, like I said, you could stand to eat a little more,” she added.  “Get the toast, drown it in syrup, and start growing some love handles.  Give me something to hang onto when I’m—”

“We have to talk,” he said suddenly, stopping dead, and Lacey turned to face him, puzzlement wrinkling her brow.

“We - are talking.”

“No, I mean—”  He cut off, running a hand through his hair.  “I mean - I mean we have to talk about - about us.”

There was a swooping feeling in her belly, nerves and anxiety making her stomach flutter.

“Well, that sounds ominous,” she remarked, folding her arms.  “Do I prepare myself for bad news, or what?”

His eyes widened.

“No, no!” he said hastily.  “At least, I would hope you wouldn’t - I mean, I don’t think it’s bad news, but then I suppose I’m not you.”

“Gold,” she sighed.  “I can’t take this kind of suspense and I’m freezing my ass off.  Whatever it is, just tell me, okay?”

“I’m trying!” he insisted, lifting a hand and letting it fall.  “It’s - it’s hard to find the words.  Maybe I should have written something down.”

“Well, if you want to go do that...”

“No, I have to tell you,” he said impatiently.

“Tell me _what_?”

“How - how I feel.”

“Oh.”  Well, she hadn’t been expecting that.  “Oh.  Well, I know you like me.  And - and you think I’m cute, right?  You’ve made that pretty clear.”

Gold smiled, his eyes crinkling, and the tip of his tongue swept across his lips, as though he was nervous.

“Oh, you’re beautiful,” he said softly.  “You’ve always been beautiful, and you always will be, but it’s more than that.”

“Then what?” she asked.  “What - what do you feel?”

Gold glanced away, as though he would find inspiration in the snow-covered streets, and when he looked back he was still smiling.

“You make me laugh,” he said.  “You push me, and you challenge me, and I can feel myself just - just brimming over with excitement whenever you’re around.”

 _Yes_ , she wanted to say.   _Yes, that’s how you make me feel, too._

“You - you’re so clever and so _good_ , and it’s like - it’s like - when you came into my life, you brought light in your wake,” he went on, pressing a hand to his chest.  “You made me feel again, made me _want_ to feel again.  I - I don’t think I’m explaining it well...”

He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and she could feel her heart thumping high in her chest, its thudding beat almost painful.  Gold licked his lips, turning back to her, his breath gusting white in the cold air.

“You make me want to be better, Lacey,” he whispered.  “And I need that.  I need _you_.  I think - no I _know_ , I’m _certain_...”  He hesitated, lifting a hand and letting it fall.  “I love you.”

It felt as though her heart would burst, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, tears stinging her eyes.

“You love me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.  “So, so much.”

Tears spilled over, coursing down her cheeks, and she stepped closer, a sob escaping her.

“I love you, too,” she said, in a tiny voice.  “I’ve loved you for so long, and - and I worried that you might not feel the same!”

He reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping tears from her skin.  His own eyes were bright, and she could see tears welling up, threatening to fall.  He pressed his forehead to hers, and she could feel his cool breath on her lips, his hand warm against her cheek.  He kissed her, and there was salt on his mouth from the tears that had spilled down his cheeks.  She slid her arms around him, the wool of his coat soft beneath her hands, studded with snowflakes to melt on her fingertips.  His lips were warm against hers, and she tugged him close, her body melting into his as the kiss deepened.

Whooping and clapping made them break apart, and Lacey turned her head, glancing over her shoulder to where Ruby was applauding them from the doorway of Granny’s.  She punched the air, a wide grin on her face.

“For God’s sake, tell me you guys said ‘I love you’!” she called.

“He loves me!” shouted Lacey, making Gold chuckle.  “He told me he loves me!”

“About damn time!”  Ruby was still grinning at them.  “What do you guys want?  It’s on me.”

Lacey looked at Gold, and he was staring at her with a broad grin on his face, love shining from his eyes.  Why had she not realised before?

“We’ll have some coffee and some French toast,” she said.  “But for now I’m pretty sure I want more kissing.”

She heard the diner door close, Ruby disappearing back inside, and her hands tightened on Gold’s coat as she pressed her brow to his.

“I love you,” she whispered, and his smile widened.

“Yes,” he said softly.  “Yes.  And I love you, too.”

She reached up to kiss him, her hands sliding up his back as their lips met.  He loved her.


	30. Black Flies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Lacey and Gold indulge in Roleplay Wednesday with added cane porn, Lacey gets some news, and the award for Maine's Shittiest Father goes to Moe French.

Lacey found that being in love with Gold was as easy as breathing, now that she had gotten over her anxiety over whether he loved her back.  It was amazing how much happier she felt with that security; she was no longer trying to second-guess herself and could simply enjoy what they had.  And she was convinced that what they had was pretty bloody awesome.  They spent a few nights together each week, alternating between his place and hers, and it was wonderful to wake in his arms, the kittens curled on the bed beside them.  It was getting to the point when she didn’t want to leave, but they although they had declared how they felt, they hadn’t discussed their future, and she was unwilling to jinx things by bringing it up.  She decided that if he hadn’t said anything by Valentine’s Day, she would have to raise the matter herself.

* * *

Valentine’s Day itself saw them in the shop together, and Lacey had hatched a plan which meant that even if they didn’t have the serious discussion they needed, they would at least have some great sex.  No point in the day being wasted, after all.  Gold had booked a table for dinner at the Italian on the edge of town, but in the meantime they had the entire afternoon.  He was looking very good, in his three-piece suit with the black silk shirt and the gold sleeve garters, and she had found herself growing aroused simply by watching him work, his fingers delicately holding a tiny screwdriver to repair the mechanism of an old watch.  By the time he had gone out to buy them lunch, popping to Granny’s for sandwiches and coffees, she was almost ready to burst with need for him.

She used the time to set her plan in motion, moving the little wooden stepladder to one of the shelves and climbing up to await his return, a feather duster in one hand.  She was wearing a short, flared skirt and a very tight white blouse.  Black lace-top stockings clung to her legs above high-heeled black shoes.  It was an outfit that had made his eyes darken when she had taken off her coat that morning, and she was surprised he hadn’t already bent her over the workbench in the back room.  She flicked the duster over the books on the shelf, keeping an eye on the shop window.  Gold passed by with his swift, limping stride, and she hurriedly turned her attention to the books, bending forward to show as much of her rear as she could.  The bell to the shop tinkled, and she heard the tap of his cane.  She licked her lips in anticipation as the door closed behind him.

“You - ah - you’re lucky it was me,” he said.  “From this angle I can see every inch of you.”

Lacey looked over her shoulder, giving him a coy smile.

“Oh, I knew it was you,” she said.  “I wanted you to see me.”

Gold grinned, his eyes gleaming at her, and he set down the cardboard tray containing their coffees, and the paper bag of sandwiches tucked under his arm.

“Well, well,” he said softly.  “Hard at work, I see, Miss French.”

“I’m being a model employee, Mr Gold,” she said.  “You know what a good girl I am.”

She pretended to dust, hearing his low chuckle, followed by a click as he locked the shop door.  He closed the blinds at the window, and her breathing quickened as she heard the tap of his cane approaching.

“You don’t appear to be wearing underwear,” he said.  “I’m fairly certain that’s not appropriate attire for working in my shop.  Perhaps I should - chastise you.”

“No, Mr Gold, I am!” she insisted, shivering at his words.  “I’m wearing a thong.”

“Hmm.”  He was silent for a moment.  “I think I should check, just to make sure.”

Something cold and hard touched her leg, and she gasped at the feel of it.  The handle of his cane, pressed against her skin.  It slid slowly upwards, making her shiver, and she sucked in a breath as it slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, lifting it up.

“My apologies, Miss French,” he said, his voice low and lazy.  “You are indeed wearing a thong.  White lace, I believe.”

The cane handle moved higher, up to her waist, and Lacey licked her lips as it hooked over the thin waistband of the thong, tugging gently.

“Nevertheless,” drawled Gold.  “I think it should come off.”

“If you say so, Mr Gold.”

“I do say so.”

He tugged harder, the thong slipping over her hips and down her legs, and Lacey grinned as she stepped out of it.

“Such a tiny scrap of lace,” he said softly.  “I imagine it barely covers anything.”

“I can show you what it covers, if you like.”

“In a moment.”  He pushed the cane between her knees.  “Open your legs.”

Lacey shuffled on the toes of her shoes, spreading her legs as wide as she could.  The cane brushed against her inner thigh, moving upwards, the metal handle cold against her skin.

“Are you wet, Miss French?” he whispered, and she swallowed hard.

“I - don’t know.”

“I think you’re lying to me.”

The cane pressed upwards, against the heat of her sex, and Lacey gasped.  The handle moved, stroking through her folds, and she felt it release her slippery juices, growing slick with her arousal.  Gold turned the cane so the ebony shaft touched her, the metal handle pulled back to press against her clit, and she moaned.

“I can see how wet you are,” he said.  “I can see it coating the shaft of my cane, all sticky and delicious.”

He began to rub at her, the cane sliding over her flesh, and Lacey moaned again, gripping the top of the stepladders.

“This cane has been inside you,” he said softly.  “I think about that every time I use it, you know.  I think about what it feels like to be inside you, deep inside where you’re hot and wet and you hold me tight.  I think about sucking your cum from the handle.  How sweet you taste.”

Lacey let out a tiny cry as the handle rubbed over her clit, her hips moving a little to increase the friction.

“I’m gonna put it inside you again,” he whispered.  “I’m going to put it inside you, and then I’m going to lick you until you scream, do you hear me?”

“Yes!” she gasped, and let out a moan as the handle pushed into her, sliding inside, cold and hard.  She closed her eyes, feeling it move in and out of her, then Gold drew it out slowly, rubbing the end over her clit again and making her breath catch.

“Come down a little way, Miss French,” he said, his voice low and throaty.  “Just one step.”

Lacey obeyed, stepping backwards onto the step below, and the cane slid out from between her legs.  She felt his hands at her waist, reaching for the zip of her skirt and pulling it down.  The skirt fell to her ankles, and she stepped out of it, leaving her naked from the waist down.

“Now,” said Gold.  “Turn around.”

She turned slowly, her movements a little awkward on the stepladder, and when she was facing him, her sex was level with his mouth.  Gold inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her into his nose.  His eyes were almost black, and she felt her heart thump harder.

“Beautiful,” he said softly.

He laid his cane against the stepladders, putting his hands on her hips and leaning in, and Lacey sucked in air as his nose brushed her skin.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

His tongue slipped out to touch her, stroking through her folds, and Lacey let her head roll back with a low moan at the feel of him.  Gold groaned, his hands tightening on her hips, his tongue swirling over her hot flesh.  She let her hands sink into his hair, closing her eyes and concentrating on every flick and stroke of his tongue.  There was a brief click of the cane against the wooden steps, and then the cold metal was between her legs again, the handle sliding up inside her.  She flicked her eyes open, and Gold was pushing the cane handle in and out of her, the ebony shaft over one shoulder, his mouth on her and his tongue rubbing over her clit.  The sensations were incredible, and she could feel her arousal building, her climax approaching, as he pushed and thrust and licked.

“Come for me, Miss French,” he whispered, his voice a low buzz that vibrated through her body.  “I want to taste you.  I want to suck your cum from my cane before I fuck you hard.”

She moaned, her breath coming in pants, her cheeks flushing, and his tongue rubbed over her clit, sweeping over her in rhythmic strokes.  Her fingers tightened in his hair, her legs shaking a little, and she came with a cry, a wave of bliss crashing through her.  Gold groaned, his tongue sliding and swirling, and she tried to catch her breath as her body jerked and shook.  He pressed a kiss to her mound, straightening up, and slowly drew out the cane handle, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it clean before his tongue stroked through her folds.

“God, you taste good!” he growled, and she pushed her hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip through her fingers.

“You feel good,” she whispered, and he gave her a final kiss, standing straight and grounding the cane beside him.  There was a wicked glint in his eyes.

“And now,” he said, holding up a hand.  “Would you accompany me to the back room, Miss French?”

She took his hand, stepping down to the floor, and walked to the back room, her hips swinging.  She could feel his eyes on her rear, and grinned to herself as she pushed back the curtain.  Gold followed her, shrugging out of his jacket before laying his cane aside and sitting down on one of the stools.  Lacey plucked at his belt buckle, getting it open and reaching into his pants to free his cock.  He groaned as she straddled him, sinking down onto him and taking him deep.  His fingers pulled at the buttons of her shirt, getting it open and revealing the white lace bra.

“It unhooks at the front,” she whispered.

He grinned, unfastening the bra so that the cups sprang apart, releasing her breasts for the attentions of his mouth and tongue.  He sucked at her, and Lacey moaned as she began to move, sliding against him, rocking back and forth as he pushed in and out of her.

“God, you’re so wet, sweetheart,” he whispered.  “Feels so good.”

Lacey bent her head to his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth.

“You feel good, too,” she whispered, and he groaned.  “So hard and thick, pushing up inside me.”

 _“Fuck!”_ he gasped, and she swept her tongue up his throat, nipping along his jaw.

“I want to feel you come,” she breathed.  “I want to feel your cock pulse as you squirt up inside me.

“ _God_ , Lacey!”

He was groaning, his arms tight around her, his breathing hard and heavy, and she nipped at his ear.

“I want your cum dripping out of me,” she whispered.  “I want to feel it running down my thighs when you take me home.”

“God, I’m gonna burst!” he gasped, and she grinned, licking at his neck again.

“And when we get home,” she said.  “I’m gonna blow you until you forget your name, and then ride your face until you beg me to stop, you hear me?”

Gold came with a long, rumbling groan, thrusting up inside her, and she clung to him, moving her hips as he pulsed, feeling the heat of his body pass into hers.  He jerked and moaned, his cheeks damp with perspiration, and she bent her head to his neck again, sucking on his skin above the collar of his shirt as his movements slowed and stopped.  She straightened, running her fingers through his hair, and Gold smiled at her, sleepy eyes crinkling.

“Fuck!” he whispered.  “God, that was amazing!”

“We make the best pawnshop sex tag team on the Eastern Seaboard, I reckon,” she said.  “Good thing you locked the door.  All that noise may have made people think you were being attacked.”

Gold was grinning at her, a soft, lazy look in his eyes that made her want to kiss him again.

“Move in with me,” he said, and she blinked, excitement flaring in her belly.

“What?”

“You and the cats,” he added.  “Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up together every day?”

“It would be great,” she said.  “You sure you’d be okay with three kittens running around the place and getting into everything they shouldn’t?”

“I have a feeling that having you in my bed every night would more than make up for it.”

“Oh, so it’s about having sex on tap, is it?” she teased, and his grin widened.

“I was thinking we could snuggle, but if you insist...”

“I suppose I could let you have a few nights of uninterrupted sleep,” she mused.  “Not promising anything, mind you.”

“Then you’re moving in?” he asked, and she bent her head to kiss him, pulling back with a smile.

“I’m moving in.”

* * *

They decided on the following Friday evening for the moving date, which would give Lacey time to pack and clean up the apartment.  She was excited by the prospect; living together was a huge step, and she didn’t want to fuck it up, but the thought of waking up in his arms everyday was making her so happy she wanted to run down the street screaming the news at the top of her lungs.  She settled for telling Ruby and Leroy, instead, which was almost as enjoyable.  She said goodbye to Gold just after three on Friday afternoon, telling him that she was almost ready to go, and he promised to bring the car over at seven to help her move her things.  Their kiss goodbye had been long and heartfelt, and she got back to the apartment feeling as though she was walking on cloud nine.  It was then that she found a letter addressed to her from Boston University.

Her hands shook as she opened the thick envelope, and she scanned the contents carefully, her heart thumping.  After she had read it three times she jumped up, making the kittens start, and grabbed her coat, tugging it back on and stomping downstairs.  She suspected that Gold would still be at the shop, given the time, and she was correct.  He was running through his ledgers; she still hadn’t managed to wean him off them completely, but he did at least look at the computerised ones too.  He glanced up as she entered, breaking into a warm smile.

“Did you forget something?” he asked, and his eyes widened a little as she stomped up to the counter.

“Was this you?” she demanded, waving the letter at him.  “Did you do this?”

“Did I do what?” he asked, looking perplexed.

“I got a bloody scholarship to Boston!” she shouted, and he broke into a smile.

“Lacey, that’s wonderful…”

“Was it you?” she asked again.  “Did you call in a favour, or - or make a bloody donation to the university?”

Gold closed her hands around the letter, the thick paper crackling, his touch calming her a little, grounding her.

“I did nothing,” he said gently.  “It was all you.”

“But…”  She shook her head.  “But they _hated_ me!  I yelled at Professor Rush and I’m pretty sure I called him a wanker - or at least I definitely thought it - and Professor Drake looked as though she’d rather be _anywhere_ but talking to me, and...”

Gold was trying to hide his grin.

“Well, perhaps Professors Rush and Drake can see what I see,” he suggested.  “I’m sure they thought you were wonderful.”

Lacey took a deep breath, settling back on her heels, and looked down at the crumpled letter in her hands.

“I got in,” she said softly, and a surge of pride went through her.  “I got in!”

She squealed in excitement, throwing herself on him with enough force to make him stagger, and Gold laughed, an arm going around her as she hugged him.

“I did it!” she squeaked.  “I applied and they _want_ me!”

“Well, of course they do,” he chuckled, patting her back.  “How could they not?”

She pulled back, grinning widely, and he was smiling, his eyes gleaming at her.

“I’m very proud of you,” he said, and she bit her lip, stretching up on her toes to kiss him.

“So,” she said, her arms still twined around his neck.  “It - uh - it looks as though I’ll have to move to Boston.  We won’t see as much of each other.  Weekends and holidays, I guess.”

Gold shrugged.  “We can make it work.”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “We can make it work.  I _want_ to make it work.”

“Well,” he said.  “That’s half the battle, isn’t it?”

She settled back on her heels, almost bursting with excitement, but then her face fell a little.

“I - I guess I should tell my dad,” she said.  “I should tell him about us, too.  He’s gonna know eventually.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“I don’t think that would help,” she said.  “Besides, the sooner I go over there, the less drunk he’ll be.”

Gold’s mouth flattened, but she stretched up to kiss him again.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

* * *

She tried the flower shop first, but he usually closed early on Fridays, and sure enough the shop was dark and locked, so she made her way over to his place, wondering how he would take the news.  She doubted he’d like the idea of her living with Gold, but she entertained a tiny, desperate hope that he might actually be proud of her for getting into college.  There had to be a first time for everything, after all.

The garden was as overgrown as ever, weeds choking the path and climbing up the steps of the porch.  Lacey pushed open the screen door that led to the kitchen, pulling a face at the scents of coffee and whisky, and of stale vegetable oil from the deep fat fryer.  The kitchen was dingy, the countertops looking grubby and unused, empty takeout cartons piled next to the microwave.  There were two black flies on the windowsill: dried, dead husks that must have been there weeks.  She wondered when he had last cleaned.

“Hey!” she called, and there was a shuffling noise from the lounge.

She took a step back, wrinkling her nose a little, and Moe stepped out of the shadows of the hallway.  Lacey’s heart sank as she noticed his slack face and bloodshot eyes.   _I guess coming over in the afternoon didn’t work, huh?_

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, curling his lip.  “If you’re here for money, you’re wasting your time.”

“When have I ever asked you for money?” she demanded.  “Haven’t I bailed you out enough times?”

He grunted, but didn’t acknowledge her point.

“What do you want?” he asked.  “Gold got you doing the rent-collecting now?  You’re a week early.”

“No,” she sighed.  “I’m not collecting rent.  I came to tell you something.”

“Huh.”  His eyes narrowed.  “You pregnant?  You’re on your own, if so.  I’m not having that man’s bastard under my roof.”

“God, you’re a fucking arsehole!” she snapped.  “Do you think I don’t know how contraception works?  Or that Connor and I don’t discuss these things?”

“Who the bloody hell is Connor?”

“Gold, of course!” she said coldly.  “I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Makes a change, from what I hear,” he muttered, and she itched to slap his face.

“I didn’t just come here to talk about him,” she said, trying for a calmer tone, and he eyed her suspiciously.

“What the hell do you want, then?”

“I’m going to college,” she said boldly.  “I got a scholarship to study at Boston.”

Moe laughed, a sly, nasty sound.

“Majoring in what?  Drinking?  Sleeping around?”  He stepped closer.  “I’m guessing you’ll find a way to get decent grades out of your professors, at any rate.  Like you got Gold to make a fool of himself by hiring you to strut around that shop like the bloody queen!”

She could feel tears prick her eyes, and she wasn’t sure whether they were from hurt or anger.  Perhaps both.

“I just thought I’d tell you,” she whispered thickly.  “I thought - I thought maybe you might actually be proud of me, or something.  Just for once.  Guess I was wasting my time.”

“Seems like the entire thing is a waste of time,” he said.  “What the hell are you gonna study anyway?  Not like you need a career, is it?  Being the town whore’s a full-time job.”

Lacey dashed at her eyes with the heel of her hand, trying not to break down.

“Fine,” she said coldly.  “Now you know.  When I leave town in the fall that’s where I’m going.”

“You think he’ll let you go?”  Moe snorted.  “Think again.  That man only ever looks out for his own interests.”

“It was _his idea_ in the first fucking place!” she snapped, getting angry again.  “If it wasn’t for him I never would have applied!  If it wasn’t for him I’d still be working double-shifts at Granny’s to make rent!  He’s shown more belief in me in _six months_ than you showed in twenty-two years!”

“Then why are you here?” he said roughly.  “You think I want you in my home, reminding me of what a fucking disappointment you are?”

“I just got into _college_!” she shouted, tapping her hand against her chest.  “I got a _full scholarship_!  I’ve - I’ve got a good job, a job I’m _good_ at!  I’ve got a _future_!  You ever think maybe you don’t have the first bloody clue who I really am?”

“You’re a bloody disgrace!” he sneered.  “Look at you!  Dressing like a tramp!  Falling out of bloody bars at one in the morning!  Whoring yourself out to Gold so he’ll hire you!  Don’t think I don’t know who you are, my girl!”

 _“Why the hell do you hate me?”_ she shouted, tears spilling over and coursing down her cheeks.  “You were never like this when I was a kid!  Not when Mum was alive!  How the hell did it ever get this _bad_?”

“Because you’re the image of your bloody mother!” he snapped, his eyes flashing.  Because I can’t see your face without thinking of her, and how you’re not fit to walk the same _ground_ she did.  I can’t bear to bloody _look_ at you!”

Lacey recoiled, feeling as though he had slapped her.  He was breathing heavily, raw fury in his eyes, and she felt something inside her break.

“Mum loved me,” she said, amazed at how calm and cold her voice was.  “And she loved you, too.  I guess when she died, she broke the only thing connecting us, right?”

He didn’t answer, and she nodded, the gesture brief and final.

“I’m moving in with Connor,” she said.  “I love him, not that I expect you to believe that.  And he loves me.”

“You’re a bloody fool if you think that.”

“In September I’m going to Boston to study business,” she said, ignoring his insult.  “So you’re all caught up on what’s going on in my life.  I guess there’s no reason for us to speak again.”

“I guess not,” he said bluntly.

She nodded again, the tears welling up until her vision was blurred.  She couldn’t look at him, and so she turned and left the dingy kitchen with its dusty shelves and dead flies, and his bitter, malevolent presence.  The screen door banged shut behind her, loud in the quiet Friday afternoon, and she trudged back down the overgrown path, the spring breeze cold on her face, the tracks of her tears drying in frigid streaks.


	31. Cracked and Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankfully my muse has returned after pretty much a three-week vacation due to the flu. Last time, Lacey told her father she was moving in with Gold and had been accepted to college, and he was basically a terrible, awful person and made her cry :(

Lacey managed to make it home before she broke down completely, curled on the couch as her body was wracked with sobs, her throat hurting, her eyes stinging with the salt of her tears.  She wasn’t certain what it was that had upset her so.  Perhaps the knowledge that he didn’t love her, didn’t even care for her.  Perhaps the sense that she now had no relatives that she could reach out to.  She knew that part of it was anger, for his refusal to recognise how much she had learned and grown in the past six months, but mostly she was grieving for the loss of another parent, for she knew that he would be out of her life from that moment on, as if he had died.  As if she were truly an orphan.

When she finally stopped, she felt drained of energy and desperately sad.  The kittens seemed to sense that she was upset, each of them snuggling close or patting her with soft paws, purring loudly.  She buried her nose in their fur, squeezing the last of the tears from her eyes.

“Gotta stop this crap,” she said, her voice muffled.  “I’m guessing he never once shed a tear for me, huh?”

Severus rubbed his head against her cheek, and she scratched his ears.

“Enough,” she said, with a sigh.  “We have to get everything ready to move to your dad’s place, okay?”

She petted the kittens for a little longer, until they fell asleep, and then pushed herself up on unsteady legs and went to wash her face and check that everything was packed.  The apartment seemed strange with its shelves bare of her things, but she supposed she would feel at home in Gold’s house before long.  The kittens would like exploring the gardens, certainly, and she smiled briefly at the thought of one of them bringing in something they shouldn’t.  Hopefully the bird population wouldn’t suffer.

There was still a little time before Gold was due to collect her, and so she decided to start taking boxes downstairs to make it easier to carry them out to his car.  He would be redecorating and then letting the apartment once she was out, and the thought of someone else being in the place she had called home for five years was odd.  The apartment had been special to her: she had proven at the age of seventeen that she could care for herself and hold down a job and keep a roof over her head.  Looking back, she wondered why she had been down on herself for so long.  There were plenty of people twice her age who couldn’t say the same.  She thought she would miss the apartment, with its snug bedroom and tiny kitchen and its memories of drunken nights with Ruby for company.  She wasn’t sorry to be leaving, though.  Not considering where she was going.

Gold arrived promptly at seven, and Lacey tried to return his smile as best she could when she opened the door.  He frowned at her expression.

“You’ve been crying,” he observed, and she pulled a face.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely audible.  “Doesn’t matter.  Let’s start taking this stuff out to the car.”

She moved to pass him, but he stopped her with a finger beneath her chin, lifting her head a little, his touch gentle.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a total arsehole for a father,” she said bitterly.  “Not that that’s something I didn’t already know.”

He watched her steadily, and she sighed.

“He says I’m a disgrace,” she said, her voice dull.  “Even after I told him about college.  He says I’m a drunken tramp and he can hardly bear to look at me.”

Gold caressed her cheek, his eyes soft, and she leaned into his touch.

“Oh, Lacey, I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she shrugged, feeling the tears prick her eyes again.

“I’ll be okay,” she said.  “Made me realise that there’s nothing there to fight for anymore.  Sometimes you just have to cut ties with the toxic people in your life, right?”

He nodded, and pulled her into a hug.  His scent was comforting, his body warm and firm, and she let herself relax into him, feeling some of the sadness leave her.

“Sometimes that’s best,” he agreed.  “Is that what you want to do?”

Lacey shrugged a little.

“Well, he only makes me miserable,” she said.  “Nothing I do will ever be good enough, and honestly I’m tired of being the one who tries to keep a relationship going with him when he bloody hates me.  I don’t think that’s how family’s supposed to be.”

“No,” said Gold quietly.  “I don’t suppose it is.”

He kissed the top of her head, and she looked up at him.

“Maybe it’s best that I’ll be spending more time in Boston soon,” she added.  “Otherwise I’ll just have to ignore him whenever I see him, and that’s - ugh, that’s just gonna make me feel like crap on a daily basis.”

Gold’s mouth thinned a little, and Lacey suspected that the next time Moe French was late with his rent, there would be consequences.

“As you say,” he said.  “Sometimes it’s best to just cut toxic people out.”

* * *

Gold found that having Lacey in his house was every bit as wonderful as he had anticipated.  Having lived alone for so long, coming home to someone who loved him made him ridiculously happy, and he was certain that he spent most of the first few weeks with a stupid grin on his face.  They took it in turns to make breakfast; she could now cook eggs and bacon without burning anything, and was talking about learning how to make pancakes and French toast.  He was usually awake before her, though, and he had to admit that he enjoyed bringing her breakfast in bed.  Especially when it led to other things.

The kittens had settled in well; they had already considered his house to be theirs anyway, in his opinion, but it was admittedly nice to have one of them curled on his lap in the evening when he and Lacey sat on the couch to read and talk.  He bought them a larger basket, as they were growing fast, but they spent as much time sleeping on his and Lacey’s bed as they did in the kitchen.  He didn’t care in the least.

Lacey had been a little subdued for the first few days, and Gold knew it was because of her father.  His anger had raged and burned, his desire to thrash Moe within an inch of his life almost too much to contain.  He had tamped it down, though, the flaring heat of his fury shrinking to glowing embers, and then becoming something cold and calculating.

It was two weeks later that he had the chance to do something about it.

Lacey had informed him that she would be cooking a casserole that evening, a recipe that Granny had given her and that she thought she could handle.  She had left the shop at four to make a start on it, and he had taken the opportunity to deliver a letter that had given him a great deal of pleasure to write.  He had dropped it on the counter of the flower shop when Moe was serving another customer, briefly locking eyes with the man before smirking and sauntering out.  It was only a matter of time before he would get a reaction.

Gold waited, fingers drumming slowly on the counter in time with the clock’s low, rhythmic ticking.  Eventually the door to the shop burst open with a frantic tinkling of the bell, and Moe French stormed up to the desk with the letter in his hand, his eyes almost popping with fury and a large vein standing out on his forehead.  With any luck the man would have a heart attack.  Gold sent him a thin smile.

“Ah,” he said pleasantly.  “Mr French.  I’ve been expecting you.”

“What the bloody hell is this?” demanded Moe, waving the letter at him.  Gold showed his teeth.

“Are you having difficulty reading?” he asked.  “It’s your eviction notice.”

“You can’t evict me!”

“I think you’ll find I can.”

“I’ve put my entire _life_ into that shop!” protested Moe.

“A fact that is unfortunately not evidenced by the payment of rent,” said Gold dispassionately.  “You’re late.  For the fourth time in as many months.  I have to cut my losses at some point.  If you return home, you’ll find a similar notice in respect of the house I rent to you.”

“I can get you the rent!”

“Then why haven’t you, pray tell?” drawled Gold.  “Despite my previous warnings you have failed to see fit to hold up your end of our agreement.  On multiple occasions, I might add.”

“Business is patchy after Christmas, you know that!” snapped Moe.

“It’s now March,” said Gold coldly.  “And didn’t you assure me that your fortunes would change with the Valentine’s Day turnover?  It appears I was misled into being unduly generous.  I promised myself I wouldn’t make the same mistake again, and you know how I like to keep my word.”

“You can’t do this to me!” blustered Moe.  “You’ve got no _right_!”

“I have _every_ right!” snarled Gold, the words hissing out through his teeth.  “And not only is it my right, Mr French, it is my absolute pleasure!  If you had any sense you’d leave this town where you’re _clearly_ deeply unhappy and make a fresh start elsewhere.”

“With what?” demanded Moe.  “You’ve left me with nothing!”

“Well, perhaps if you didn’t piss all your profits up the wall every weekend, it wouldn’t be an issue,” snapped Gold.  “I’m not a fucking charity!”

“No, you’re not,” said Moe, scowling.  “You’re a bloody bastard!”

Gold gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and walked out from behind the counter, his cane tapping on the floor.

“You’ve been given the period of notice to quit the premises as agreed under the contract that you signed and to which you failed to adhere,” he said quietly.  “I expect you gone by the date in said notice.”

Moe sent him a smile, which was more of an ugly grimace.

“This is about that daughter of mine, isn’t it?” he sneered.  “I might have known.  What, she needs you to fight her battles, does she?”

“I’m not aware that the two of you are at war,” said Gold, in a cold voice.  “Miss French informs me that she no longer wishes to maintain a relationship with you.  I think that considering your appalling behaviour, this is in her best interests.”

“And you’ll put me on the street to make sure of it, right?”  Moe curled his lip.  “You’re a snake, you know that?”

“I’ll put you on the street because you owe me money, Mr French, it’s as simple as that,” said Gold, sounding bored.  “Now get out of my shop.  This conversation is over.”

“It’s over when I say so!”

Moe swung a punch at him, and Gold ducked out of the way, feeling a whoosh of air as a fist narrowly missed his nose.  He raised the cane immediately, throwing it up into the air and catching it near the bottom before swinging it around to catch Moe in the ribs.  Already off-balance from his wildly-thrown punch, Moe stumbled to the ground with a yell of pain, and Gold struck him again.  Rage surged within him; bottled up for too long, it had seethed and fermented and now exploded outwards.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with?” he said through his teeth.  “You think you can screw me over and attack me without consequence?”

He whacked Moe again, relishing the hoarse cry of pain, and Moe held up pleading hands.

“Gold!  Please!”

Gold pressed the handle of the cane against his throat, making him choke, and leaned down, his nostrils flaring.

“Shut.  The fuck.  Up!” he breathed.  “I want you gone as soon as you can pack your filthy belongings and get out of my property, do you understand me?”

He was staring into Moe’s eyes, enjoying the pain and terror in them.  The tinkle of the shop’s bell barely registered.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

“Mind your own business!” snarled Gold, glancing around.  His heart gave a lurch as he saw who it was.  A dark-haired man in his late twenties, familiar brown eyes flicking from his face to Moe and back again.  Gold straightened up, grounding the cane.

“Bae!” he whispered, and his son’s mouth flattened.

“It’s Neal,” he said coldly.  “Neal Cassidy.”

“You - you changed your _name_?”

Well, that hurt.  He supposed he should have expected it, but it still hurt.

“Wanted a clean slate,” said Neal, folding his arms.  “Worked, too, until I had a visit from your girlfriend.”

“Lacey came to see you?”

Gold was stunned.  Why hadn’t she told him?

“Yeah,” said Neal flatly.  “Turned up singing your praises, talking about how you’d changed her life.  That you were a good person, that all you wanted was to be a good father.  I should have known it was bullshit.  I should have known you were still a bastard.”

“Got that right,” said Moe, from the floor, and Gold glared at him.

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped.  “Get the hell out of here and start fucking packing!”

Moe got to his feet, holding his left side a little gingerly, and shot Gold a venomous look before turning his attention to Neal.

“Take my advice and stay away from him,” he said.  “The man’s a bloody beast!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” growled Gold, and Moe curled his lip, limping out.  The door closed behind him, the cheerful tinkle of the bell very loud in the close, ominous silence that had fallen between him and his son.

“So,” said Neal.  “Using violence to get what you want, huh?  Nice.”

“He broke the heart of someone I love!” hissed Gold.  “He’s been trying to break her spirit for _years_!  That’s when he wasn’t beating her with anything that came to hand, of course.”

“Oh,” said Neal uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair.  “That was - that was Lacey’s dad?”

Gold nodded.  “Told you about him, did she?”

“Yeah.”  Neal shifted his feet, looking awkward.  “Still, I don’t think…”

“He tried to sell me her virginity when she was barely sixteen,” Gold went on, “and then took it out on her when I turned him down!  He is a sad drunk and a vile, pitiful excuse for a father!”

“So you thought you’d beat him up?” said Neal, in a flat voice.

“He threw a punch at me!”  Gold raised his eyes to the ceiling with a heavy sigh before looking at him.  “Look - forget about the tragedy that is Moe French.  I’m just - I’m thrilled that you came to see me.  Can’t we - can’t we just _talk_?”

“I don’t know.”  Neal ran a hand through his hair again.  “Maybe this was a mistake.”

He took a step back, heading for the door, and desperation made Gold reach out, try to grab his arm.

“No, please!” he said quickly.  “Please don’t leave!  Give me a chance to make it right!”

“How can you make it right?” demanded Neal, stepping back further.  “You _can’t_ make it right!  You can’t just - just _erase_ what happened!”

“I didn’t mean that.”  Gold settled back on his heels, clutching the handle of his cane.  “I just meant - I just want us to get to know one another again, Bae.”

“It’s _Neal_!”

The name was delivered with a shout, and a flash of dark eyes.  Gold swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “Neal.”

There was silence for a moment, and Neal shook his head.

“I wasn’t even gonna come here,” he said.  “I thought - I thought maybe just shutting you out was better.  Cleaner.  But then Lacey turned up and told me some stuff, and I got to thinking that maybe Mom hadn’t been straight with me about you.  That maybe she’d lied.”

“What did she tell you?” asked Gold, anger still making his chest heave.

“That you never wanted me,” said Neal, looking uncomfortable.  “That you left because of it.  Never heard anything from you until that time you turned up when I was sixteen, so I figured it was true.”

Gold blinked.

“But - but I wrote!” he protested.  “I wrote to you every week!  I - I sent presents and money, whatever I could!  Are you telling me you got _none_ of that?”

“Not a damn thing,” he said flatly.  “All I knew was you left.  Of course, later on I found out you were in jail.  Not sure which was crappier, to be honest.”

Gold shook his head, his heart aching.  All these years his son had thought he didn’t care.  He wondered what other lies Milah had told him.  Rage swelled in his chest again, and he tried to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, son,” he whispered.  “I don’t expect you to forgive me for not being there for you, but can we at least try to build something going forward?”

“Maybe,” said Neal, after a pause.  “I don’t know.  I’m not promising anything, okay?  I have Henry to think about now.”

Gold looked up at that.

“Henry?”

“My son.  Mine and Emma’s.”

Gold’s mouth twitched in a smile.

“I have a grandson?”

“Yeah.”

His smile grew, but he sensed that Neal was still cautious, and while he wanted to ask a hundred questions about Henry, he decided that taking things slow was probably wisest.

“Look, why don’t you come to dinner?” he said.  “Nothing fancy, just the three of us.  Lacey’s cooking tonight.”

Neal eyed him warily, but then gave him a cautious nod.

“Okay,” he said.  “We’ll have dinner.”

* * *

Neal was silent as they made the brief journey to the house, and Gold tried to think of something to talk about with him.

“How long will you stay?” he asked.

“I’ll go back tomorrow,” said Neal.  “Can’t leave Emma on her own with Henry for too long.”

“Of course.”  Gold turned into his street.  “Do you - do you want to stay with us?”

“I’ll stay at that inn in town,” said Neal.  “Granny’s, or something?”

“Yes.”  Gold hesitated.  “You know, I have plenty of room…”

“One step at a time, okay?”

“Right.”

He pulled onto the driveway, and Neal looked over the house.

“It’s pink,” he said.

“Yes, I’m rather fond of it.”  Gold shot him a brief smile.  “Shall we?  I’m sure Lacey will be pleased to see you.”

“You - uh - you guys live together?” asked Neal.

“Only for the past couple of weeks.”  Gold got out, using the cane to steady himself.  “It’s - it’s going well.  We’re getting along very nicely.”

“Well, she seems like a good person,” said Neal, and Gold smiled.

“She is,” he said.  “I’m very lucky.”

A savoury smell wafted out to greet them as Gold opened the front door to let them into the house.

“Oh good, you’re back!”  Lacey came through, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.  “I was just about to—”

She cut off as she spied Neal, her mouth falling open a little before she snapped it shut.

“As you can see, my son has paid us a visit,” said Gold.  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Lacey shifted uneasily.

“I - may have made a note of his address and kind of visited him when I went to New York,” she admitted.

“And you were planning on telling me this when, exactly?” he asked, in a very dry voice.  Lacey bit her lip.

“I didn’t think he’d come,” she said.  “Didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Gold met her eyes, and a faint blush rose in her cheeks.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he said evenly.

“Sounds promising.”

She wound her arms around his neck, smirking, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“Hey Lacey,” said Neal, and she turned to him with a grin.

“Hey Neal.  Good to see you again.  Are you staying for dinner?”

“If that’s okay?”

“Of course!”  She beamed at him, and turned back to Gold, her eyes gleaming.  “I made chicken casserole and _didn’t burn it_!”

“That’s - excellent news,” he said, with a tiny grin.  “Why don’t I get us all a drink before we taste this magnificent creation?”

She kissed him before spinning away, and he watched her with that grin still on his face as she bounced off to the kitchen.  When he looked around he saw that Neal was eyeing him curiously.  He wondered what was going through his son's mind.

"Right," he said, shrugging off his coat.  "A drink.  I suspect that Lacey and I will be having wine.  What would you prefer?"

"I'll have some wine, I guess," said Neal, taking off his own coat.  He had begun looking around at the pictures and trinkets in the hall, and Gold gestured towards the lounge.

"Have a seat," he said.  "Oh, you might want to check for kittens first.  They've taken to hiding under the cushions.  I sat on Severus last week, and he wasn't too pleased."

"You have - kittens?"

Neal was looking at him as though he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, and Gold wondered what the hell Milah had told him about his father's personality.  Blatant lies, by the looks of things.  He decided not to ask about it at this first, fragile meeting.

"We have three," he said.  "Let me introduce you to the family."

Neal ran a hand through his hair, but nodded, and Gold led him through to the lounge.  His son was right.  One step at a time.


	32. Comfort Came Against My Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Neal had arrived in Storybrooke, caught Gold beating up Lacey's dad, and reluctantly agreed to come for dinner. Here's what happened next.

Gold watched Neal as he stepped into the lounge, his eyes flicking from left to right as he tried to take everything in.  He had laid a fire that morning, and Lacey must have lit it when she returned home, because there was a cheerful blaze in the hearth, warming the room.  Hagrid and Minerva were curled on the couch, and Gold lifted the cushion next to them, smirking as a pair of green eyes looked up at him from a soft dome of black fur.  Severus blinked, purring briefly before breaking off to yawn, and Gold grinned, leaning his cane against the arm of the couch.

“There’s my boy,” he said, and picked up the kitten, letting him nestle against his chest and butt his head against Gold’s chin.  Gold smiled at Neal, who was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“This is Severus,” said Gold, and nodded to the two cats curled on the sofa.  “The black and white one is Hagrid, and the calico is Minerva. Careful of her, she’s a minx.  Has a tendency to chew shoelaces and she’ll take a bite out of your sandwich if you give her the chance.  But she’s adorable.”

Neal reached over to scratch Hagrid’s ears, glancing back at Gold.

“Never imagined you’d be a Harry Potter fan,” he remarked.

“Lacey named them,” said Gold.  “They’re hers, really. But since she’s moved in - well, I guess I’ve sort of adopted them.  It’s nice to have some company in the house, if one of us is home alone.”

“They’re cute,” admitted Neal, fingers tickling beneath Hagrid’s chin.  “We can’t really have pets at the moment. Emma’s more of a dog person, anyway, and that’s never gonna happen as long as we’re renting the apartment.  Landlord’s not a fan of animals.”

“Hmm.”  Gold’s smile was wry.  “Yes, I didn’t exactly agree to Lacey bringing them into the apartment she rented from me.  It was more a case of her getting my permission after the event.”

“You were her landlord?”

“I own most of this town,” he said.  “But I’m more than happy to be losing out on that particular monthly rental payment, I assure you.”

He gave Severus a final petting, and lifted the kitten off his shoulder, handing him over to Neal.

“Here,” he said.  “Put him next to his brother and sister.  I’ll get us those drinks.”

He picked up his cane, walking off to the kitchen, and feeling Neal’s eyes on his back.  Lacey looked around when he entered, her eyes sending him a silent message of love and support, and he couldn’t help smiling, despite his nerves.  His son had agreed to come to dinner. It was a new and fragile thing that they had, but every step in the right direction was to be treasured.

“Do you need help?” he asked, and she bent to open the oven door.

“Nah, I’m good,” she said, lifting out a casserole dish and setting it on the stovetop.  “Pour the wine, and I’ll serve up.”

He reached for a bottle from the rack, and she put a hand on his arm, giving him a brief, reassuring squeeze.

“Just take it slow,” she said softly.  “It’ll be fine.”

He nodded, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek before carrying the casserole dish to the table.  There was a pan of potatoes already cooked, and he watched her mash them with milk and butter as he uncorked the wine.

“I’m nervous,” he whispered, and Lacey looked up, chewing her lip.

“I know,” she said, and reached out to touch his arm.  “But he seems like a good guy.”

“Yes,” he said softly.  “He does. I’m - I’m proud.”

“Yeah, I think it says a lot about him,” she went on.  “I know you never wanted this for him, but from his perspective…”

She broke off, shrugging, but he could understand what she was trying to say.

“I - I think he’s hurting,” she said, “and he thinks you’re a different person to the man I know, but he’ll come around.  It might not be instant, you have to be prepared for that.”

“I know.”  He pulled the cork from the bottle with a pop.  “Shall I bring him through?”

“We’re all ready.”  She held up the bowl of mashed potatoes.  “Is this okay?”

Gold set down the wine bottle and dipped a finger into the mash, transferring a large blob to his mouth.  It was savoury and delicious, rich with butter and creamy milk and seasoned with fresh-ground salt and black pepper.  He grinned at her, and she almost blushed as she returned the smile.

“That’s delicious,” he said.  “Don’t ever tell me you can’t cook again, alright?”

Lacey sniffed.

“If you think you’re getting out of making me awesome food, think again,” she said.  “Just because I haven’t poisoned us yet doesn’t mean I should be let loose in this place.”

Gold grinned, and swept her a tiny bow before heading back to the lounge.  Lacey bobbed up and down on her toes for a moment, nervous on his behalf. She decided to sit down to hide her restlessness, and took a seat just as the two men walked in.

“Sit down and help yourselves,” she said with an air of carelessness she didn’t feel.  “There’s plenty, so don’t hold back. You know, unless it’s inedible.”

“It smells great,” said Neal, and took a seat across from her, leaving Gold to sit at the end.

There was silence for a moment as food was spooned onto plates and wine poured.  Lacey was pleased to hear noises of enjoyment from her fellow diners. Pride in her cooking was a new feeling for her.

“That’s excellent, sweetheart,” said Gold, lifting his wineglass.

“Really good,” agreed Neal, and she wanted to wriggle in pleasure.  She decided to try to coax Neal into speaking instead.

“So,” she said.  “How are Emma and Henry?”

Gold shot her a look at that, and she sighed inwardly.   _Yeah, okay, I never told you about visiting your son, or the fact that I met his family.  Guess I’ll be hearing about that later, huh?_

“They’re good,” said Neal.  “Really good. Emma’s thinking about going back to work when Henry turns one, so that’ll be an adjustment.”

“What does she do?” asked Lacey.

“She’s a bail-bondsperson,” he said.  “Not the easiest job when you’re pregnant, so she’s thinking about re-training.  Police, maybe.”

“I guess at least then you don’t work alone,” offered Lacey, picking up her wineglass, and he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s got a few friends in the police force that have been pushing her to apply, so it’s something to consider,” he said.  “We’ve been kind of getting by on my wage since we found out Henry was on his way.”

“And - and what do you do?” asked Gold tentatively, and Neal eyed him for a moment, spearing a piece of chicken on his fork.

“Web design and helpdesk assistance,” he said.  “Not the area I thought I’d end up in, but the money’s not bad, I guess.  Enough for us to get by.”

Gold opened his mouth, and Lacey kicked him under the table, giving her head a tiny shake when he shot her a look.  Offering money at this early stage would be counterproductive.

“Will you get a sitter when Emma goes to work?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I guess.  If we have to.  She’ll probably work a lot of nights, so I can look after him then.”

Gold shifted in his seat, and Lacey was convinced that given an opportunity to speak he would be offering to move to New York just to babysit.  She squeezed his thigh under the table, making him start.

“Ah - Lacey is going to college this year,” he said.  “Boston University.”

“Really?”  Neal’s face brightened.  “Hey, well done! What are you studying?”

“Business, I guess,” she said.  “Might as well make myself useful, huh?”

“There’ll always be a job for you here, as long as you want it,” said Gold gently.  “I wouldn’t be able to run the place without you.”

“Well, that’s true,” she agreed, winking at him.  “Did you get a replacement for me yet?”

“Who could ever replace you?” he asked dryly, and she grinned.

“I meant to take over running the website sales, you smooth-talking bastard.”

Neal bit back a laugh, and shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to cover it.  Gold was giving her a very level look, which only made her want to grin more.

“No replacement as such,” he admitted.  “But there’s plenty of time.”

“So - does this mean you’re moving to Boston?” asked Neal, and Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Not sure,” she admitted.  “We’re still talking about it.  Deciding what to do for the best.  We have the business here, and I want to work when I’m not in college.  I need to think about the cats, too.”

“I can look after the cats,” said Gold patiently.  “I’ve told you that. If you want to go and - and have the full student experience, that’s fine.  We’ll get you a dorm room, or a shared house.”

“And have a bunch of teenagers throwing up in my bathroom when I’m trying to study?”  She rolled her eyes. “Been there, done that. By which I mean I’ve been the teenager throwing up when I should have been studying.  Kinda want to leave that behind.”

“So what are you thinking of doing?” asked Neal, and she shrugged.

“Maybe getting a room with some sweet old lady who’s in bed by nine,” she said.  “Staying there during the week and coming back at weekends.”

“Not your average student life,” said Neal, and she shrugged again, taking a drink.

“Not like I’d be going if a certain person hadn’t convinced me to try,” she said.  “Can’t exactly leave him on his own with only the cats for company.”

Neal shot a look at Gold, and Lacey sipped at her wine again.  Gold was paying attention to his food, but she noticed that he glanced at Neal whenever he thought his son wasn’t looking.  It was a glance full of longing, and it made her want to hug him.

“So,” she said, speaking to fill the silence between the two of them.  “New York, huh? How’s that working out for you?”

* * *

The dinner had been awkward, the conversation that wasn’t initiated by Lacey broken and stilted, but Gold came out of it feeling a little less anxious.  It was a start, at least. Neal insisted on helping to clean up, and so Gold washed the dishes while he dried. Lacey watched them, sitting on one of the chairs with her glass of wine, and afterwards they went into the lounge, sliding onto the couch next to the cats.

“I should probably get going soon,” said Neal.  “I’ll stay at that inn tonight, head back tomorrow.”

“Right,” said Gold, turning his wineglass around between his fingers.  “Uh - perhaps we could have lunch?”

“Take him to Granny’s and get him a burger,” suggested Lacey, curling her legs underneath her.  “They’re awesome, Neal, seriously.”

Neal glanced between the two of them, scratching Minerva’s ears as she crawled into his lap.

“Okay,” he said.  “We’ll do lunch.”

* * *

Gold had been quiet after Neal had left, and Lacey decided not to push him to talk about how he was feeling.  She was aware that he was already somewhat nervous about her going away to college, although of course he hadn’t said anything, and she didn’t want to add to his feelings of potential isolation by bringing up his fragile relationship with his son.  She got up early the next morning and went to meet Ruby for a run, the spring air cold in her throat as they jogged along the forest trails.

“A son, hmm?” said Ruby, when Lacey had finished explaining.  “Estranged for all those years, and then you show up out of the blue.  Not sure whether I feel more sorry for him or for Gold.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” sighed Lacey, tucking a curl behind her ear.  “I’m glad he came, though. I didn’t think he would. Connor has a grandson, you know.”

“So I just get my head around the fact that you think he’s a DILF, and then you go and drop GILF on me too,” said Ruby, and squawked as Lacey shoved her.  “Come on! It’s pretty funny.”

“Well, he is a fucking GILF, I guess, if you want to get technical,” said Lacey dryly.  “Maybe even a GIFOARB.”

Ruby stumbled.

“What the hell is _that_?”

“Grandpa I Fuck On A Regular Basis, obviously,” said Lacey, and Ruby burst out laughing.

“Okay,” she said, when she had stopped giggling.  “So, do you think the reunion’s going well?”

Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Not sure,” she admitted.  “It’s sort of - fragile - you get me?  Could go either way. We’re going for lunch at Granny’s later.  Kinda hoping they’ll talk to each other a bit more. Most of the conversation last night was shit I was saying.”

“I guess they’ll have to take it slow,” said Ruby.  “Not gonna be the sort of thing that you fix over a plate of ribs and a beer, is it?”

“Yeah.”

Lacey fell silent as the trail turned uphill, puffing air out through her mouth as her legs pumped.  They crested the hill, breathing hard, their pace quickening as they went downhill before settling into a steady pace.

“What about you?” asked Ruby, and Lacey gave her a quizzical look.

“Me?”

“Yeah.  College.  You decided what you’re doing yet?”

Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“Not really,” she said.  “Gold says he’d get me a dorm room or a shared house if I wanted one, but I’d rather rent a place that isn’t gonna be full of drunk teens whining about their love lives, you know?”

“So get a private rental,” suggested Ruby.  “You could stay there Monday through Friday and come back at weekends.”

“I guess,” said Lacey.  “Maybe find a roomie who likes cooking for other people and who goes to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“Weirder things have happened.”

Lacey snorted.

“What, like me wanting to go to bed at a reasonable hour?”

“Never thought I’d see the day.”

Lacey chuckled, and they started up another hill, the climb making them breathless.

* * *

They ran for half an hour before turning back, jogging down the hiking trail on the approach to town just as it turned eight o’clock.  Lacey was flushed and gasping, but she felt better for the exercise. A familiar figure appeared on the trail in front of them, hands shoved in his pockets, and she slowed to a stop as Neal drew close.

“That’s him,” she whispered to Ruby.  “Hey, Neal!”

He looked up at the sound of her voice, and waved, grinning at her.

“Hey!” he said.  “You’re up early.”

“It’s Ruby’s fault,” said Lacy, jerking a thumb at her.  “Given the choice I’d still be in bed.”

“Pleased to meet you,”said Ruby, and he nodded.

“Likewise.  I’m guessing it’s your grandmother that owns the diner, then?  She said I might bump into you.”

“Guilty as charged,” said Ruby, with a grin, and glanced at Lacey.  “Speaking of, I should head back. If you guys want to drop by, coffee and donuts are on the house.”

Lacey gave her a grateful look, and Ruby set off at a sprint towards the town.  She glanced at Neal.

“You want to walk a little?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Sure.”

They settled into an easy stroll, and Lacey hugged herself, trying to keep warm now she had slowed her pace.

“How are things at Granny’s?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s a nice place,” said Neal.  “She does great waffles, and the coffee’s strong enough to make your eyes water.  Emma would love it. Plus everyone’s real friendly.”

“Yeah, I used to work there, before your dad gave me a job,” said Lacey.  “Pros of living in a small town, I guess. Everyone knows your business.”

“Even when you don’t want ‘em to,” he remarked.

“ _Especially_ when you don’t want ‘em to.”

There was silence for a moment as they walked on, and Lacey chewed her lip.

“He’s happy you’re here, you know,” she said.  “But he’s nervous. I don’t think he really knows what to say, and he’s scared whatever he _does_ say will chase you away again.”

“Yeah.”  Neal drew up his shoulders, pushing his chin into the scarf wound around his neck.  “Look, I can’t promise that this is gonna end how he wants. How _you_ want.”

“I know,” she sighed.  “At least you came. I didn’t think you would.”

They walked on a little way, birds chirping in the trees around them, and Lacey glanced across at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“When you came to the house, you seemed - I don’t know - surprised, maybe?  By me and him, and - and the kittens.”

Neal huffed in amusement.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“So…”  Lacey chewed her lip.  “So I guess my question is, what did your mother tell you about him that would cause that?”

Neal was silent for awhile, hands shoved in his pockets, and she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he looked across at her.

“She told me he was an abusive bastard,” he said.  “That he smacked her around. That he’d smacked me around, too.  That he was controlling.”

“Oh,” said Lacey, in a small voice.  “Do you - do you remember any of that?”

He shook his head.

“Nah,” he said.  “Oh, sure, I remember them fighting.  She told me that’s why she left. Of course, she left _after_ he went to jail, but it took me awhile to work that out.  Timelines get kinda wonky when you’re six, so when you get older, you think maybe you’re remembering it wrong when your mother insists on it.”

“And - and the violence?” she asked, and he shook his head again.

“Talking about it with Emma - well, I think it kind of opened the floodgates,” he said.  “I can remember her screaming at him, words I didn’t understand back then. I remember he’d just turn his back and walk out.  I think maybe that made her madder, but - ah, I don’t know! You can block stuff out, right? Maybe she told the truth. I mean, the first time I saw him here, he was beating the crap out of your dad.”

“I - what?”

Lacey stopped, staring at him, and Neal winced.

“Shit, he didn’t tell you?”

“Must have slipped his mind in all the excitement,” she said dryly, and he gave her an awkward shrug.

“He said it was self-defence, if it makes a difference.”

She ran a hand over her face.

“Look, my dad’s an abusive piece of shit, so I’m guessing he probably deserved it,” she sighed.  “Seems we all have fucked-up families.”

“Got that right.”

They walked on a little further, and Lacey watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Will you tell him?” she asked.  “What your mother said?”

Neal’s mouth twisted.

“Maybe,” he said.  “We’ll see how things go.  I think - I think since I’m here, maybe I need to find out what really happened, you know?  I only had my mother’s side of things, and she left whenever she found a new boyfriend. Which meant foster care.  If ‘care’ is the right word.”

Lacey winced.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up in the system,” she admitted.  “I know Connor told me that was what he hated, what scared him the most. Not knowing what you had gone through, and being powerless to change it.”

“Yeah.”

Neal didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t want to push it.  He shrugged, huffing air out over his teeth, a plume of white in the cold air.

“Maybe Emma’s right,” he said eventually.  “Maybe I should give him a chance. From what he says, he came looking for me as soon as he could, so I think I need to hear things from his side, too.”

“That makes sense.”

“But I can’t promise we’ll be family again,” he added.  “I got my own family to think of.”

“I get that.”

They walked on a little further, and Lacey looked over at him.

“Will you guys have more kids?” she asked, and he grinned.

“Maybe when Henry’s a couple of years older,” he said.  “I know Emma wants to get her career back on track first.”  His grin turned wicked as he looked at her. “What about you guys?”

Lacey stumbled, eyes wide.

“Me, have a _kid_?” she said disbelievingly.  “I can barely take care of myself!”

Neal burst out laughing.

“Yeah, that’s how we felt,” he said.  “I think you’d surprise yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I’m _definitely_ doing college first,” she said firmly.  “And don’t put ideas in Gold’s head, I don’t think I could take the yearning looks and puppy eyes.”

Neal chuckled at that, and she nudged him.

“Come on, let’s get to Granny’s,” she said.  “Ruby said coffee and donuts on the house, right?”

"I'm in."

They quickened the pace, heading back into town along the forest path at a brisk walk.  As the trail wound around a large maple, a familiar figure came into view, clad in black with a cane in one hand, picking his way along the path.  Lacey pulled up, surprised.

"Hey," she said.  "What are you doing out here?"

Gold smiled briefly, shrugging a little.

"I needed to walk," he said, and met her eyes.  She felt a rush of understanding, and gave him the tiniest nod.

"I'll - um - go grab us a table," she said, and jogged off towards the town.

Gold looked at his son, standing with his hands in his pockets and his chin pushed down into his scarf.  The pose was so reminiscent of him as a boy that it made tears prick his eyes.  So many years lost.

"I know you're still mad at me, that you feel abandoned and betrayed," he said quietly.  "I don't blame you for that.  But please, son, if you're gonna be angry, at least be angry about something I actually did.  God knows there's enough of that."

Neal was silent, and Gold sighed.

"What did your mother tell you about me?" he said.  "That I was a crook first and a lawyer second?  That I was stupid enough to get involved in someone else's scheme and wound up in jail because of it?  That because of that, you grew up without a father?  It's all true."

"Didn't find out about the jail thing until I was old enough to do my own research," Neal said stiffly.  "She told me you were violent.  That you'd hit me, and that if she tried to protect me, you'd hurt her.  That you'd left, and you were never coming back."

The words were like shards of ice piercing his chest, cold and painful enough to make him clutch at himself as he shook his head fervently.

"I'd never hurt you like that," he whispered.  "Never!  I swear it!  I never once laid a finger on you, or on her.  God, son, please tell me you know that!"

"How can I know that?" demanded Neal.  "How can I know what the hell happened between you?  The only thing I know is that you left!  Both of you, you just - you just  _left_!"

"I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter!"

Neal threw up his hands.

"Yeah, yeah you did!" he said.  "You could have done the right thing!  You could have told whoever it was that asked you to be a part of their fraud to go screw themselves!  You could have been a good man!"

Gold was silent, hands opening and closing on the handle of his cane.

"You're right," he said quietly.  "I was a coward, and I made a terrible mistake.  There's no taking it back, I know that."

"No."  Neal scuffed his boots on the forest floor.  "No, there's no going back."

Gold swallowed, blinking hard.

"You were all I thought about, all the time I was in there," he said gently.  "When Milah didn't visit - well, that wasn't a surprise, not really, but I thought she might at least let me see you.  I - I tried to find out why no answer came to my letters, but they wouldn't tell me anything."

"I didn't get any letters," said Neal.  "I told you.  Not a thing."

"The moment I got out I went looking," he went on.  "You know that.  And when I found you - I - I wanted so much to make it work, son.  For us to be a family again.  I understand why you're so angry, believe me, I do.  So - so I backed off, but I never gave up, I promise.  I hoped - I hoped one day you might come around."

Neal was silent, shoulders a little hunched as he studied the earth beneath his feet, leaf mulch and pine needles stirred up by the toes of his boots.

"You can't change the past," he whispered.  "Not mine, not yours."

"I know that," said Gold, his voice cracking a little.  "I know.  All I can say is that I'm sorry.  For not being there for you, for not making the right choices.  If I could go back and do it over, I would, believe me, because there's nothing more important to me than you."

Neal glanced up at him then, pain and uncertainty in his eyes, and Gold wanted to pull him into his arms.

"You're the best thing I ever did with my life," he said softly, and Neal shrugged, but stepped a little closer.

"I'm still angry," he muttered.

"I know," said Gold, his voice a broken whisper.  "I know, and I'm so sorry, son!  I'm so, so sorry!"

Tears welled in his eyes, and Neal took the final step towards him, pulling him into a fierce hug.  Gold wept as he held his son for the first time in twenty-two years, tears pouring down his face, and Neal let out a sob as he tightened his grip.  It felt like a release, as though years of pain and hurt were leaking away with their tears, and he let himself weep, let himself feel.  He felt drained afterwards, Neal's coat damp from his tears, but he smiled a little as he drew back, as he reached up to touch his son's face.

"I love you, son," he said.  ""I've always loved you.  And I want us to be a family, if - if you're willing."

Neal wiped his eyes, dashing away tears with the heels of his hands, and nodded.

"I'm willing to try," he said.  "How about we start with coffee at Granny's, and take it from there?"

Gold smiled, trying not to cry again.

"I would like that."


	33. Down Dust And Pine Cone Tracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter - these dorks are almost at their HEA!

Gold was about as close to blissfully happy as he thought possible.  Neal had come back into his life, was cautiously open to reforging their relationship, and had agreed to bring Emma and Henry with him to visit the following month.  And he had Lacey, wonderful, beautiful Lacey, who made his skin hum and his heart swell and whose kisses were like fire.  Just thinking about how his life had changed in the past year made him smile as he went over inventory in the shop.  He remembered the lunch that the three of them had shared at Granny’s, and how he had sat back and watched as Neal and Lacey fell into the sort of easy banter that he had always found difficult.  She was the opposite of him in so many ways, and he loved her for it.  Enough that he was thinking of taking the next step in their relationship, if she was open to the idea.

The bell above the shop door jerked him out of his brief daydream, and when he saw the visitor, his good mood evaporated.  Zelena Green strode up to the counter with a mouth that was twisted up tight, as though she had eaten something sour and was trying to avoid spitting it out in disgust.  She tried to smile at him, and it made him want to take a step back.

“Mr Gold,” she said, in honeyed tones.  “I’m so happy to have caught you alone.”

“Not for long,” he said.  “Lacey went to purchase lunch for us, that’s all.”

“Then perhaps we should make the most of this time together,” she said.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you out to the farm to take a look at what I’ve done with the place.  I think you’ll be interested.  Mother said you were always a man who knows a good potential profit when he sees one.”

“The price you appear to want me to pay is rather too high, I’m afraid,” he said mildly, and she batted her eyelashes.

“I haven’t told you my offer yet,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

“You don’t need to,” he said.  “Whatever issues you have with your mother are of no interest to me, but I suspect you’re trying to get one over on her.  I couldn’t be less interested in facilitating that.”

Zelena frowned.

“I thought you might have got bored with the waitress by now,” she said.  “Apparently not.  No doubt she has some sort of appeal beyond the obvious, but I can’t see it.”

Gold sent her a thin smile.

“You don’t come into town much, do you Miss Green?”

“Well, the nightlife isn’t exactly stimulating, is it?” she said.  “The only decent conversations I have are with you, after all.”

“Don’t ninety percent of our conversations consist of you asking me for some sort of physical intimacy and me awkwardly refusing?”

Zelena smiled.  It made his flesh crawl.

“You’ll find that persistence is one of my traits.”

“Along with wilful blindness, it seems,” he drawled.  “I was going to say that because you don’t come into town much, you won’t be aware that Lacey and I are living together.  Very happily.”

Her mouth worked, her nostrils flaring a little, but that smile stayed on her face.

“I give it six months.”

“I don’t care,” he said dryly.  “Now, was there something you wanted, other than to creep me out?”

Zelena rolled her eyes, but that awful smile finally slipped from her face, and she raised her chin, her eyes suddenly cold.

“I want to talk about the man spying on me,” she said.  “I’m almost certain he’s working for you, and I want to know why.”

Gold let out a soft laugh.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” she said flatly.  “Tall, dark-haired, dresses like he cosplays someone from a Victorian gothic novel?”

“Sounds - memorable,” he said.  “Alas, I’m drawing a blank.”

“Hmm.”  She looked unconvinced.  “Well, should he ever happen to come into your shop, tell him that I’ve introduced some new security measures at my farm.  Including arming my workers.  It would be a terrible shame if one of them were to mistake him for a criminal and shoot him.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then whirled on her toes, stomping towards the door, and Gold let the thin smile he had kept up in the face of her threats fall away as she walked out.  Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket for his phone, flipping it open to call Jefferson.

“No more surveillance at the farm,” he said, without announcing himself.  “She’s onto you, and she’s pretty much threatened to have you shot if you keep it up.”

“Dammit!”  Jefferson sounded frustrated.  “I think I was almost there!”

“I’d rather you were eighty percent certain and alive than one hundred percent certain and dead,” said Gold.  “I mean it.  Pull out.”

“It’s always disappointing to hear you say that to me, Gold.”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose.  Hard.

“Is there ever gonna be a time when you _don’t_ turn everything I say into an opportunity for inappropriate flirting?”

“Doubt it,” said Jefferson cheerfully.  “Okay, I’ll call time on the spying thing.  She’s good at concealing stuff, and everyone that works for her is disappointingly loyal, but the evidence I’ve collected should be enough for you to decide what you want to do.”

“Understood,” said Gold.  “Come over at six after I close up, give me what you have, and I’ll pay you.”

“If you gave me what _you_ have, I’d give you a discount.”

Gold let out a long-suffering sigh, secretly amused.

“One of these days I’ll let Lacey spank you,” he said sternly.

“Kinks are extra.”

“And on that note…”

Gold rolled his eyes, flipping the phone shut and cutting off Jefferson’s laughter.

The shop bell went again, and he looked up with a frown that cleared instantly as he saw it was Lacey.  She stomped over to the counter with a grin on her face, holding up a large paper bag and a cardboard tray with two take-out coffees.

“Grilled cheese with onions and a slice of ham,” she said, with relish, making the bag rustle as she shook it.  “Gimme some sugar and one of ‘em’s yours.”

He couldn’t help grinning at that, and leaned over the counter to kiss her.  Lacey made a sound of enjoyment, her lips pulling at his.

“I should really hold out for more sugar,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“What would you have me do?” he asked softly, and she pursed her lips.

“Lock the door, take me in the back room and eat me out on the bench, maybe?”

His grin widened.

“After our actual lunch, perhaps.”

“It’s a date.”

She winked at him, walking through to the back room with a swing of her hips and a glint in her eye, and it felt as though his heart would burst with love for her.   _Soon.  I have to ask her soon._

* * *

It was Lacey’s turn to make dinner that evening, and she was fretting over it as usual.  She had started out feeling confident; steak with potato wedges was after all the first thing Gold had showed her how to cook, but preparing the potatoes had taken longer than she had estimated, and getting behind had made her panic.  She was stressed and overheated by the time he got home, huffing stray curls out of her face as she measured oil for the mayonnaise.  Gold took one look at her, told her to sit down, and poured her a glass of wine before taking over.  Which only served to remind her how much she loved him.  Not that a reminder was needed. Gold used the hand blender to make the mayonnaise, scraping it out into a jar and adding minced garlic before sticking a finger in to taste it.  He sucked a blob of pale yellow from his fingertip, nodded, and set the jar on the table before turning to the steaks.

“Sorry,” said Lacey, running a hand through her hair.  “I don’t know what happened there.”

“You know I don’t mind, right?” he said, grinning at her.  “Just relax.  Cooking shouldn’t be a chore.”

“I’ll get the hang of it one day,” she sighed.

“You already have,” he said gently.  “You seem to think that I’m expecting everything to be perfect, when really all I want is to eat dinner with the woman I love.”

 _Love_.  It made her want to wriggle with pleasure in her seat.  She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to hearing him say he loved her.  She beamed at him, taking a drink and setting down her glass.  Gold checked on the potato wedges, but closed the oven when it was obvious they were nowhere near done.  He poured his own glass of wine and sat down opposite her.

“Neal called,” she said.  “He suggested coming down next weekend with Emma and Henry.  I said that would be okay.  It is, right?”

Gold smiled broadly, and she wanted to kiss him.

“That’s perfect,” he said.  “I can’t wait to see them.”

Her heart swelled at the dreamy look in his eyes, and she told herself to get a grip.

“How was your day?” she asked, and Gold sucked his teeth, as though he were pondering something.

“It was interesting,” he said eventually.

“In what way?”

He smiled somewhat enigmatically at that.

“Come for a walk with me tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you.”

* * *

Lacey had tried to get him to tell her what he meant, but Gold had insisted on being infuriating, and had refused to explain himself.  It was therefore with no small amount of curiosity that she followed him up the hiking trail that she and Ruby usually ran on a Sunday morning.  Gold set an easy pace, and the spring morning was pleasantly mild.  Her eyes narrowed as they neared what she remembered as the turning to Yellowbrick Farm.

“What are we doing out here?” she asked.  “That Green bitch decided to finally move out, or something?”

Gold grinned.

“Or something,” he confirmed.

He took her hand, gently pulling her with him, and she fell into step with him, walking along the trail.  As the trees thinned a little she could see flashes of coloured light, and hear the flat, tinny sound of walkie-talkies.  Curious, she quickened her pace a little, and broke out of the trees into a field, the farm clearly visible in front of her.  It was swarming with people; men and women in bulletproof vests were sweeping the area, and numerous cars and vans were parked up, blocking any other vehicles from leaving.  Lacey could clearly see some of the people striding back and forth around the greenhouses, guns out, _DEA_ spelled out in large letters on their backs.

“The DEA?” she said, puzzled.  “What’s going on here?”

Gold had put his hand on her arm, but she didn’t need his urging to stay close.  She craned her neck at the shrill sound of a familiar voice, and clapped a hand to her mouth as Zelena was dragged out of the farmhouse in cuffs, screaming about her rights.

“I think we should leave now,” said Gold quietly, and Lacey nodded, letting him pull her back to the path in amongst the trees.

They walked for a moment in silence, and she chewed her lip, thinking over what she had just witnessed.

“So - she was dealing drugs?” she said eventually.  “Big time, by the look of that reaction.”

“A meth lab, I believe,” he said calmly.  “In a secret underground room beneath the greenhouses.  Your reports of what you and Ruby saw on your run made me suspicious, so I set Jefferson on the case.  She was remarkably cagey, and hid her tracks well.  Just not well enough.  The authorities appear to have received an anonymous tip-off.”

“Which had absolutely nothing to do with you, I’m sure,” she said dryly.  “Wow.  Gotta admire her nerve, setting up something like that in plain sight.”

“Always the best way to hide,” he said.  “Still, I suspect we won’t be bothered by her presence again.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry,” she said, with a sniff.  “Had to hold back from slapping her stupid face a few times when she practically threw herself at you.”

He grinned at that, drawing to a stop and pulling her close.

“As if I would ever look elsewhere when I have you,” he murmured, and she bit her lip, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good to know,” she said.  “Oh, and just so we’re clear, this is the weirdest date you’ve ever taken me on.”

“And here I thought you’d find it satisfying.”

“Not as satisfying as banging you against that tree,” she said, and he grinned.

“That could still happen,” he said, and Lacey snorted.

“With a bunch of DEA agents running around?  I don’t think so.”

“Fair point.”

He was grinning, and she wanted to kiss him, but she pursed her lips as though she was thinking.

“I bet the orange jumpsuit’s _really_ gonna clash with that hair of hers,” she said.  “The thought of that’ll keep me smiling for months.”

Gold burst out laughing at that, and bent his head to kiss her.

* * *

As spring became summer and the woods around Storybrooke filled with green light and life and the chattering of birds, Lacey reflected that life, on the whole, didn’t suck.  She was happy living with Gold: blissfully happy, if she was honest, and now that he was developing a relationship with his son he seemed happy too.  A calmness had settled over him, a contentment that made her smile to see it.  Neal had brought Emma and Henry to visit one weekend, and Gold’s face had lit up as he held his grandson for the first time.  If Lacey had been the crying type that would definitely have set her off, and as it was she felt a strong urge to go into the kitchen to make tea and cut cake to hand around.

She liked Neal and Emma very much, and Henry was just adorable, and she was proud to have had some involvement in bringing them together with Gold, however small it might have been.  Her own family situation was quite different; her father had left town, left in the night owing rent on the shop and leaving the house in such a state that Gold had to hire a cleaning team before he could relet it.  Lacey had cried when she first heard that he had gone without so much as leaving a note, and Gold had held her close as she wept.  Once she was done, however, she reflected that their relationship had ended long before his leaving, and while it still hurt, she was able to find some sort of closure.

There was her own future to think about too, of course, and for once in her life she was actually planning ahead, now that she had a goal in mind.  She had been saving money from her job with Gold in advance of going to college in September, and there was a flutter in her belly whenever she thought about it.  Yeah, life definitely didn’t suck. Life was good.

* * *

Lacey sighed, glancing from the address on her phone and back up at the apartment building.  This would be the sixth apartment she had visited that day, and her feet were hurting.  The others had been terrible; either they were not as described by the agency, or the tenant she would share with was weird, or there had been some other issue that had made her want to bolt.  Gold had taken one look through the door of the last one, issued a flat ‘No’, and steered her away.  She hadn’t bothered to ask what the problem was.  It was just one of those days.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” she said despondently, and Gold put his hand on her shoulder.

“This is the last one,” he said.  “Let’s take a look, and then we’ll go for a drink, what do you say?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Lacey opened the door, making her way through the lobby to the elevator and pressing the button for the sixth floor.  At least the place was clean and the elevator worked.  Gold put an arm around her waist as it travelled upwards, and Lacey rested her head on his shoulder.

“I could still just buy an apartment, you know,” he said mildly.

“We’ve talked about this,” she said, and he sighed.

“Very well, we’ll do it your way,” he said.  “I’m just saying, in the current climate I wouldn’t lose money.  Probably turn a profit.”

“I want to do this myself,” she insisted, and sensed him roll his eyes.

“If this one smells like a makeshift drug lab I’m turning around and walking out,” he remarked, and she grinned.

“The agent said the other tenant’s a nurse,” she said.  “I’m pretty sure she’s not running a crack den in her spare time.  Not everyone has tenants like yours, you know.”

He grumbled at that, and Lacey grinned to herself as the elevator came to a stop.  The apartment was number fourteen, and Lacey ran her eyes over the door before lifting her fist to knock.  There was a scuffling noise behind it, a muffled _Oops!_ , and then the lock rattled and the door opened to reveal a pretty woman with dark brown hair tied back from her face and a wide, somewhat anxious smile.

“Hey,” said Lacey.  “You’re looking for a roommate?  I’m Lacey.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the woman, almost hanging on the door.  “Oh, yes!  Come on in!  I’m Astrid.”

She held open the door, and Lacey stepped into the apartment.  It was small, but neat and clean, a leather couch and two chairs set around a coffee table and twin bookshelves stuffed with novels.  A small kitchen area with a table and two chairs was off to the right, and a floor-length window looked out onto the street.  She nodded approvingly.

“You’re a nurse, right?” she said.  “Shift work?”

Astrid nodded.

“Yeah, it varies,” she said.  “I’m quiet as a mouse, though, I promise.  I'll try my best not to wake you.”

“Well, I’m gonna be studying at the university,” said Lacey.  “Guess I could be pulling the odd all-nighter as well.”

“I could make you a snack when I get home, then,” suggested Astrid, beaming, and Lacey couldn’t help smiling back.

“Let me check the bedroom,” she said, and Astrid ducked in front of her, leading her along a short corridor to a door painted in purple.

“This is yours,” she said cheerfully, opening it up and stepping through.

Lacey followed, looking around appreciatively.  The room was compact, with a queen bed, dresser and chair, and a white-painted door to the closet in the corner.  Another floor-length window gave a view of the small park over the road, and the room was light and airy.  She nodded to herself.

“The street’s pretty quiet,” said Astrid.  “Occasionally the old couple three doors down argue, but most of the time they’re really sweet, and Mrs Costello makes _really_ delicious cookies.  She’ll try to feed you up, by the way; she thinks all girls are too thin these days.”

“How’s the landlord?” asked Gold, and she started, as though she had forgotten he was there.  Lacey bit her lip in amusement.

“This is Connor, my - uh - partner,” she said, and Gold flicked an amused glance at her as Astrid’s eyes widened.

“Oh!” she said.  “I didn’t think the advertisement asked for two tenants.  It - it might be kind of snug in here…”

“Oh, it’s cool, he’s not moving in,” Lacey assured her.  “He’s gonna stay in Maine and look after my cats while I’m here.  I’ll go back at weekends.”

“Oh, you have cats?” exclaimed Astrid.  “I _wish_ I could have cats!  The rental agreement doesn’t allow it.”

“Neither did mine,” said Lacey, winking at Gold.  “I managed to sweet-talk the landlord.”

“Maybe you could try the same trick here,” suggested Astrid.

“I think not,” said Gold blandly, and Lacey giggled.

“Okay,” she said.  “Let’s see the bathroom.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Lacey and Gold made their way out of the apartment, shooting one another little grins.  Astrid had insisted on making them tea, served up with the infamous Mrs Costello’s oatmeal raisin cookies, and had answered Gold’s questions about the landlord, the bills, and the damage deposit to his satisfaction.  She had also answered Lacey’s about the other tenants, the laundry room, and the local amenities.

“She’s adorable,” said Lacey.  “I think I should definitely move in, but I might die from the cuteness.”

“She certainly seems a glass half-full kind of person,” he remarked.  “Do you want me to call the agency and secure the apartment?”

“I can do that,” she said, and nudged him.  “Come on, let’s go get that drink you promised me.”

They walked down the street and across, heading for a bar that Gold had spied earlier.  Lacey slid onto a stool, and he ordered them two whiskies, pushing a glass towards her as he took his own seat.  She reached out to grasp his hand, a sudden burst of affection making her want to touch him, and he smiled at her, eyes crinkling.

“So,” he said.  “It seems we’ve found your home from home for the next few years.”

“Looks like.”  She took a sip of the whisky.  “Kind of a weird feeling.  Leaving Storybrooke.  Going out into the world and actually seeing some of it, for a change.  Actually makes me feel like an adult.  A little scary, not gonna lie.”

Gold lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently.  “I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Glad one of us does.”  She slipped from her seat, stepping in between his legs and twining her arms around his neck.  “You’ll miss me though, right?”

“I’ll miss you terribly,” he confirmed, his grin widening.  “As will the cats.”

Lacey sniffed.

“Please!  They’ll probably barely notice I’m gone,” she said dismissively.  “Just keep feeding ‘em and they’ll be fine.”

He reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin and making her shiver deliciously.

“They’ll miss you,” he repeated softly.  “And so will I. I love you, Lacey.”

“I love you too.”

She kissed him, letting her body melt into his as his arms slid around her.  Yes. Life was good.  Life was  _great_.


	34. So Happy-Hearted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are - the final chapter! Dun-dun-duuunnnn! I'm so reluctant to say goodbye to this Gold and Lacey because I love them so much, but at least I'm leaving them in a good place. Happy endings for everyone!

Lacey zipped her case with a contented sigh, straightening to pull up the handle and wheel it through to the hallway.  Astrid’s was already there, along with a large box of wrapped presents and two plastic containers filled with spiced cookies and a rich fruit cake she had made.  She was somewhat accident prone, and had almost dropped the cake before Lacey could take it off her and move it to safety, but everything was now ready to go and they were merely waiting for Gold to show up with the car to take them back to Storybrooke.  Lacey had helped to decorate the cookies and cake, but she was the first to admit they would have been more aesthetically pleasing if she had just left Astrid to it.

“That’s not the point,” her ever-cheerful roommate had said firmly.  “It’s Christmas. Which means that everyone joins in and brings their own magical touch to things.”

Lacey had privately thought that her magical touch made the cookies look deformed, but Astrid had a way of making her brush her own failings aside.  The woman was a pleasure to live with: always bright, always happy, always seeing the best in everyone. She had already soothed Lacey’s fretting over midterms with tea and encouragement, and had helped out with the Christmas shopping with undisguised glee.  She had been a qualified nurse for two years, and despite working long hours rarely seemed tired. Lacey thought she was almost like a fairy, a being of pure goodness in one adorably clumsy package.

Astrid had no family of her own, having been abandoned by her mother and raised in a very strict environment: a convent in upstate New York.  Upon hearing that she would be spending Christmas alone, Lacey had immediately invited her to take the leave she kept putting off and come back to Storybrooke.

“You’re sure it’s okay?” said Astrid anxiously, shrugging on her thick coat.  “I mean - isn’t it family time?”

“You are family,” said Lacey, making her beam.  “Besides, Neal and Emma and Henry’ll be there. We’ll have a houseful, it’ll be great!  And we can go to Granny’s and I’ll introduce you to everyone there, and we can drink enough eggnog to floor a giant and throw up in Connor’s bushes.  Which isn’t a euphemism.”

Astrid giggled, and the sound of a car horn outside made Lacey’s head whip around.

“That’s him,” she said.  “Okay, let’s go! You take the presents and the cake, I’ve got the bags.  Try not to fall down the stairs this time, okay?”

They managed to get down the stairs without incident, Lacey keeping a sharp eye on Astrid as she navigated the staircase with the boxes of treats in her arms.  She thought perhaps she should have taken the boxes herself, as there was little in the cases that would break if Astrid sent them tumbling, but to her relief they made it to the lobby of the apartment building and out into the freezing winter day.

Gold had arrived on time after a leisurely drive, despite a slight hold-up on the interstate on the way into Boston.  He waited by the Cadillac, breath billowing out in white clouds in the frigid air, chin pushed into his scarf to keep out the cold, and as he saw the two women emerge from the apartment building he took a step forward, cane scraping the packed snow to keep him upright.  Lacey dropped the bags by the car and flung herself on him, making him grunt as his arm went around her. She peppered his face with kisses, tiny flakes of snow pricking at his skin, and he laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Well, I missed you too,” he said, amused.  “You’ll be pleased to know the cats weren’t in the least bit excited when I said I was going to fetch you.”

“Traitors,” she said, and kissed him again before settling back on her heels with a wide grin on her face.

“Hi!” said Astrid brightly, from behind her, and Gold glanced over Lacey’s shoulder.

“Astrid,” he said pleasantly.  “All set for the holidays?”

“Just about,” she said, hefting the box in her arms.  “I hope you like cookies!”

“You know I like cookies.”  He took a step back, opening the trunk of the car.  “Come on, put your things in here.”

“Are Neal and Emma there yet?” asked Lacey, shoving their bags in the trunk.

“On their way,” he said.  “Should be with us by dinner.  I thought we’d go to Granny’s.”

“Sounds perfect.”

The journey home went smoothly, despite the falling snow.  Astrid chattered away happily, exclaiming over the beauty of the forests flanking the road and the scattered shafts of sunlight breaking through the heavy clouds.  It was growing dark by the time they entered Storybrooke, and Lacey peered out of the car windows as Gold pulled onto the driveway, hoping for a glimpse of the cats.  They were fully grown now, keen to explore the gardens of the house and the edges of the woods beyond, and there had been several presents of rodents left on the kitchen floor in the mornings.  Lacey was happy to be home, a feeling of calm contentment settling over her, and she carried in the bags, stamping snow from her boots onto the mat.

“I thought Astrid could take the room next to ours,” said Gold.

“Hope you brought earplugs,” said Lacey, winking at Astrid, who rolled her eyes.  “I’ll take the bags up.”

She carried them upstairs, dropping Astrid’s on the bed in the spare room and taking her own into the master bedroom.  The cats were curled on the bed, Hagrid raising his head to yawn at her before getting to his feet and stretching, tail curling over his back.  Lacey crawled onto the bed, burying her nose in soft fur and smiling as their purring made it tickle.

“You didn’t miss me at all, did you?” she said, scratching chins and stroking heads as the cats butted against her.  “Serves me right for leaving you in cat paradise with a twenty-four hour kitchen and endless petting.”

Minerva let out a squeak of greeting, rubbing her head against Lacey’s chin.

“Yeah, yeah, I bet you love your dad more now,” said Lacey, with a grin.  “I brought you guys presents, so we’ll see if I can win you back.”

She pressed kisses to them, giving them a final pet, then pushed up off the bed and made her way back downstairs, following the sound of voices and the warm scent of spices.  It smelled as though Gold had been cooking, and she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and the clean scent of pine from the tree that stood in the lounge, waiting to be garlanded in red and gold.

They spent the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and the rest of the house, while Christmas music blasted out from the kitchen.  Lacey drank a glass of wine as she hung ornaments on the tree, hips swinging from side to side in time with the music, and Gold watched her with a grin on his face, handing her glittering baubles and gold-painted stars and angels.  Neal and Emma turned up with Henry at just after five, stamping snow from their boots and doling out hugs, kisses and bags of gifts to go under the tree. Henry was talking now, a few short phrases and words, and Gold spent a good hour encouraging him to count and name things as Neal and Emma relaxed with a glass of wine and chatted to Lacey and Astrid.

“How’s the study going?” asked Lacey, and Emma let her head roll back with a groan.

“I’d forgotten how _tiring_ it is,” she complained.  “Who knew cops had to know so much?”

“She’s enjoying it really,” said Neal.  “She’ll be out there keeping the streets safe before you know it.”

“Turns out the rumours of donuts at stakeouts are true,” said Emma.  “So I guess that’s a plus.”

“How about you, Lacey?” asked Neal, raising his glass.  “Still enjoying college?”

“It’s pretty cool,” said Lacey.  “Hard work, though. Gotta say I’m enjoying it. Even Professor Rush's class, which honestly I only took to piss him off.  The business stuff's great, though.  I keep coming home and trying to test out theory in the pawnshop.  Must drive Connor up the wall.”

“I’ve already told you, you can use me as a guinea pig all you like,” said Gold, bouncing Henry on his knee, and she blew him a kiss.

“I’m actually enjoying the finance and project management side of things a lot,” she added.  “Who knew I could actually like math? Who knew I could actually _do_ math?”

“You’re good at everything you try to do,” Gold assured her, and she beamed at him.

“Hard to fail when you have your own cheerleader,” she said.

“Okay, now I’m picturing a little skirt and pom poms,” said Neal, with a grin.  “Not your best look, Pops.”

Gold sent him a flat look as everyone chuckled.

“On that note,” he said dryly.  “Is everyone ready for dinner?”

“God, I’m starving,” said Emma, with feeling.  “Does Granny still do those ribs?”

“Bigger and better than ever,” said Lacey.  She drained her wine and got to her feet. “Last one to the diner buys the drinks.”

“This is an _unfair contest_!” shouted Gold, as they all scrambled up and made a run for the hallway.

* * *

The snow was still falling, but gently, and they decided to walk to the diner, Henry bundled up in a woollen hat and mittens and being carried by Neal in a sling.  Lacey linked her arm through Gold’s as they walked, her feet warm in their thick boots. Astrid was on her other side, exclaiming over the prettiness of the town and the coloured lights adorning the houses leading in.  Granny’s had its own decorations, loops of warm, white lights along the roof and coloured lights in the windows, and Lacey released Gold’s arm as they got to the entrance, Astrid pushing at the door just as it opened from inside.  Astrid almost fell through the doorway, careening into a solid presence on the other side, arms flying out as she let out a shriek. Lacey rolled her eyes, but for once her roommate hadn’t face-planted the floor. A startled-looking Leroy had managed to catch her, but not before she knocked him on his back.  The two of them were now lying on the floor, wide-eyed and breathless and staring. And blocking the entrance.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” gasped Astrid.

She pushed herself up on Leroy’s chest, and he stared at her for a moment before breaking into a wide, somewhat dopey grin.

“No problem at all,” he said, as she scrambled to her feet.

“I’m so clumsy!” she fretted, reaching out to take his hands and pull him upright. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, really,” he said, and patted his sides.  “Solidly built. No harm done.”

“Oh, _good_!”

She began brushing imaginary dust from him, and Leroy kept looking at her with an enraptured expression that made Lacey grin.

“Looks like you saved me from hitting the floor,” added Astrid cheerfully.  “Usually I fall on my face. Lacey’ll back me up here.”

“Can confirm,” said Lacey, and Leroy’s eyes flicked to her, as though he had only just noticed her presence.

“Oh - hey, Lacey.  Are you guys friends?”

“She’s my roommate in Boston,” said Lacey.  “Hey, tell you what, why don’t you stay for a drink?  Haven’t seen you in a week or two.”

“Oh _yes_!” said Astrid, beaming.  “Please stay! Let me buy you a drink!  I have to find _some_ way to apologise for almost breaking your back!”

“Uh - well, okay,” said Leroy, looking as though his Christmas had been made.  “I’m - I’m Leroy, by the way.”

“I’m Astrid,” she said, bouncing on her toes.

“Can we please save the introductions and shameless flirting for when we’re all inside?” said Gold waspishly.  “It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Lacey snickered.

“Okay guys, go push a couple of tables together,” she said, shooing Leroy and Astrid with a wave of her arms.

Astrid linked her arm through Leroy’s, much to his apparent surprise and delight, and Lacey pursed her lips in satisfaction as she watched them find two empty tables to push together.

“Lacey,” said Gold patiently, from behind her.  “Have a little sympathy for my developing hypothermia.”

She started, turning to him with a grin and grabbing his hand.

“Just admiring the beauty of love at first sight,” she remarked.  “Have a heart, would you? It’s Christmas.”

“When they get married I’ll be the first to purchase a generous gift,” he said.  “Until then, I’d just like to stop freezing my bollocks off.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll kiss ‘em better.”

“Not here, you won’t,” said Neal, and Lacey winked at him.

“That’s what you think.”

 _“Mom!”_ he whined, and Emma burst out laughing.

Granny’s was wonderfully warm, filled with the savoury smells of steak and burgers and the sharp, pine scent of the large Christmas tree in the corner.  The dinner went well, a combination of delicious and plentiful food, good beer and wine and excellent company. Lacey watched with satisfaction as Astrid chatted animatedly to Leroy, hands gesturing as she spoke about her nursing and the things she liked to cook.  She also noticed that Leroy barely touched his beer, as engrossed as he was in Astrid’s tales, his eyes bright and an enraptured expression on his face. Henry had eaten some chicken strips and fries and was dozing on Emma’s lap, and Neal and Gold talked about politics and local issues and books they had been reading.  She was happy to sit there, picking at her fries, feeling pleasantly full and content, a buzz from the alcohol making her relax into Gold's side.

Ruby joined them as the evening wore on, pulling off her apron and sliding into a seat opposite Lacey to chat.  The food orders had dried to a trickle, customers ordering drinks instead, and Lacey eyed the waitresses shifting tables aside to clear a space at one end of the diner.  The purpose soon became clear, as _Rocking Around the Christmas Tree_ began to play, and Archie Hopper held out a hand to Ruby to pull her up for a dance.  Astrid and Leroy followed, and Lacey held out her arms to take Henry as Emma and Neal joined them.  She smiled as she felt Gold’s hand slide across her thigh, and glanced across at him.

“You know, you and I could get up there,” she remarked, and he grinned.

“I’ll wait for something slower, if you don’t mind,” he said.  “Vertical rhythmic movement isn’t my forté, as you know.”

“Fine with me, you more than make up for it when you’re horizontal.”

He blinked at her, and she giggled at his expression and kissed his cheek.

“Pretty great to have everyone here for Christmas, right?” she said.  “You must feel like you’ve got everything you could want.”

He sent her a tiny smile, his eyes glinting.

“Almost.”

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, Gold’s fingers gently stroking her leg.  Henry was watching the dancers with wide eyes, his thumb in his mouth, but he lifted his arms up to Emma when she and Neal returned to the table, breathless and laughing.

“Okay, timeout!” gasped Emma.  “I haven’t been dancing in what feels like years!”

The music changed, a slow tune beginning.  Lacey recognised _White Christmas_ , and some of the couples left the floor, to be replaced by others.  Astrid and Leroy, she noted with a grin, had settled into the slow dance rhythm, hands clasped and heads together as they talked softly.

“Love at first sight indeed,” remarked Gold, and Lacey patted his shoulder.

“Come on,” she said.  “Dance with me.”

He grinned, and let her pull him to his feet, leaving his cane with Neal as Lacey helped him to the floor.

“Try not to let me fall on my arse,” he said.

“As if I would,” she said.  “You got an image to maintain, right?”

“I think you may have destroyed that carefully crafted persona for all time,” he remarked, and she giggled.

“Not even sorry.”

“Since it means I have you in my life,” he said.  “Honestly, neither am I.”

She grinned at him, and he let his hand slip down around her waist, pulling her closer as her hand slid up his chest and they began to turn to the slow strains of the music.  Lacey sighed, and laid her head against his shoulder.

“Happy?” he asked.

“A little drunk,” she said.  “But yeah. I’m happy. Happier than I ever thought I would be.”

“Good,” he said.  “Me too.”

She raised her head, looking up at him.

“Glad you got totally shitfaced in the Rabbit Hole so I had to take you home that night?”

Gold grinned.

“Extremely glad,” he said.  “But even more delighted that I didn’t have to repeat my traditional 4th of October meltdown this year.  I have my son back in my life now. All thanks to you.”

She shrugged.

“Pretty sure you and Neal have worked hard to get to this place.”

“Well, that’s true,” he acknowledged, pulling her a little closer.  “But it doesn’t negate the fact that my life is infinitely better with you in it.”

Lacey felt a surge of love go through her.

“Yeah,” she whispered.  “Yeah, I feel that way too.”

He bent his head to kiss her, and she let her fingers slide up his shoulder and into his hair as his tongue stroked against hers, his mouth soft and warm.  Their lips parted slowly, and Gold pressed his forehead to hers with a sigh.

“Marry me, Lacey,” he breathed.

She sucked in a breath, her heart thumping, eyes widening.  He was gazing at her with that tiny smile on his face, his eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy, as they were when he woke in the mornings with her nestled in his arms.  As they were after he’d made love to her.

“Okay,” she said, a little breathlessly.

His grin broadened, his eyes sparkling, and he kissed her again.  She was hungry for the taste of him, fingers twisting in his hair, and it was with some reluctance that she let him pull back and kiss her forehead.

“We may get kicked out of here for lewd behaviour if you’re not careful,” he warned.

“I’ll show you some lewd behaviour when we get home,” she said.  “Did we just get engaged?”

“Unofficially, I suppose.”

“So you’d better hurry up and make it official,” she said bluntly, and he laughed.

“I have the ring at home,” he admitted.  “I had planned to save it for Christmas Eve, but this moment seemed too perfect to pass up.”

“Hmm.”  She kissed his nose.  “We can tell Neal and Emma though, right?”

“We can tell the entire diner, if you want,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose.

“I’ll wait until I get the ring.”

He grinned at her, hand sliding up her back as he pulled her close, his mouth finding her ear.

“I love you, Lacey,” he whispered.  “And I can’t wait to make a life with you.”

“It won’t be a new _life_ ,” she said.  “Just - just a new chapter.  A happy ending. I think we deserve it, don’t you?”

He kissed her neck, rubbing his head against hers like one of the cats.

“We deserve it,” he agreed.

They continued to dance, turning slowly in a small circle to the music, and Lacey closed her eyes.  She let her senses drift, feeling the heat of his body and the soft strands of his hair, smelling his cologne and the clean, fresh scent of the Christmas tree and the mingled aromas of beer and mulled wine and fresh coffee.  The sound of the music and the laughter and shouts of the diners, and the taste of Gold’s lips on hers. At that moment, there was nothing in the world she would rather be doing, and she felt her heart swell with love for the man holding her, the family she was now part of, and all her friends.  It was wonderful. It was perfect.


End file.
